Reilly's House
by hughville
Summary: Greg House and Reilly McGrath have been best friends since birth. How long will it take them to figure out they are soul mates and meant to be together? This story is a canon rewrite. It contains most of the "ships"/potws/characters from the show so there's a bit of something for everyone.
1. Chapter 1

1958

Leading a double life wasn't easy. Blythe House didn't want to marry, live on Marine bases and have a husband who left for extended periods of time. However, her family expected her to marry which she did even though she didn't love John House. So, she led a double life. When her husband was home she attended military functions with him, made gourmet meals and kept their tiny house on base immaculate. When he was away on assignment with his squadron, she kept up the outward appearance of the perfect Marine wife. Instead of staying home dutifully waiting for him to return, she slipped out after dark and did what she wanted. Only her best friend, Meara McGrath, knew about Blythe's double life. She rarely spoke of it but often waited for Blythe to come home. More times than she could count, Blythe arrived home in the dead of night to find Meara sitting on the couch in the living room. Meara kept Blythe's secret because Blythe kept hers. Blythe was the only one, besides Meara's husband, who knew Meara would be sixteen in December.

Blythe knew tonight would be no different. Meara saw her leave; saw her dressed in the body hugging gold dress with the plunging neckline and sky high black pumps. At the moment, her dress along with the rest of her clothes were scattered across the plush carpet of a very expensive hotel room. She straddled the man she met an hour earlier in the hotel bar and slid down on his rock hard cock. John never let her do this. Sex with John was boring. He simply crawled on top of her, pushed her panties down and slid inside her. When he finished, he rolled off her and went to sleep. This man, whose name she couldn't remember, was different. He reached up and cupped her breasts as she began to move on him. His hands massaged her heated skin and he rubbed his long fingers over her taut nipples intensifying her arousal. Tossing her rich brown hair over her shoulders, she moved faster and began to rub her clit. The man moaned and ran his hands down her stomach to grip her hips. Desire licked along her skin as he thrust up against her. It coiled in the pit of her stomach and then spiraled outward as she climaxed. Her moans of pleasure mingled with his. Slowly she began to relax but continued to slide up and down until he tensed beneath her. A half-smile curved her lips as his large blue eyes closed and he shouted her name. She slowed her movements as she felt him grow soft and begin to shrink inside her. Rising up, she leaned down, kissed him and then moved off him. He grabbed her arm when she moved to get off the bed. Looking over her shoulder at him, she saw him smile revealing dimples. His blond hair was disheveled and he had the beginnings of a beard.

"Where are you going, Blythe?" he asked as he began to stroke her arm.

She shrugged and pulled her arm free. Getting up, she walked around the room gathering up her clothes. Once she had everything, she headed for the bathroom.

"Uh, I think you might want this," he said.

Blythe turned to see him sitting up in bed holding out her cervical cap. Her heart began to pound and little black dots danced before her eyes. Her breathing quickened. The cap, her security against pregnancy, fell out at some point. The consequences flooded her brain and she nearly passed out. Thankfully the light in the room was coming from the bathroom behind her so perhaps he couldn't see her panic. Taking a deep breath, she walked over to the bed and took it from him.

"Thanks," she smiled thinly and went back to the bathroom. She closed the door and fumbled with the lock. When it clicked into place, she slumped against the marble sink. Her clothes fell to the floor as she stared at the cap. She was always so careful. It fell out when she moved off him. She obviously didn't get it inserted correctly before she left home. Yes, it fell out then, not before. If it fell out before...she shook her head and put the cap on the sink. John wasn't due back for almost three months. She looked at herself in the mirror. Wide, panicked brown eyes stared back at her.

"It fell out after," she told her reflection. "After."

She took a washcloth, wet it and rubbed soap on it. Quickly and efficiently, she cleaned herself up and got dressed. When she went back out into the hotel bedroom, the man lay drowsing. She picked up her purse and pulled out her comb and lipstick. An ornate mirror hung on the wall next to the bathroom door. Blythe ran the comb through her hair and applied a fresh coat of lipstick. As she dropped the cervical cap, comb and tube of lipstick in her purse, he began to snore softly. Without another glance at him, she left.

As she walked across the hotel parking lot to the car, the sky in the east was a pearly grey with an edging of pink. She pulled her keys from her purse and unlocked John's red and white 1957 Buick. Once in, she started the car and rolled down the window. As she drove, she knew she couldn't take any more chances until John came home. Opening her purse with one hand, she grabbed the cervical cap and tossed it out the window. She gripped the steering wheel and stared out at the predawn sky. John didn't know about the birth control and now he never would. Once he returned, he'd be home for over a year. Blythe's shoulders slumped slightly. Her double life was officially over.

When she walked in her house, Meara sat curled up on the couch. She blinked sleepily at Blythe.

"My cervical cup fell out," Blythe told her as she kicked off her shoes. "But it fell out after. It had to."

Meara shook her head causing her tangle of red curls to slide over her shoulders. Her light blue eyes scanned Blythe.

"We both know it didn't," Meara commented with a smooth Irish brogue. Her husband, Gilroy, met her when his squadron was stationed in Ireland. He and John served together and were best friends.

"I doubt I'm pregnant."

Meara snorted. "Go get yer date book. Look it up. I know ya keep track of such things."

Blythe went to get her date book and returned to the living room. She sat down next to Meara. Flipping through the pages, she found the current month, September. She counted off the days since her last cycle and slapped the book shut.

"Maybe he's sterile," she said weakly.

"Keep telling yerself those things," Meara sighed. "Come on, let's have some breakfast. We'll speak no more of it."

Blythe got up and followed her best friend into the kitchen.

Over a month passed and Blythe's cycle never came. Then the morning sickness started. John would be home in a little over a month. She knew a doctor across the state line who would discreetly get rid of the fetus. Somehow, she couldn't do it. John wanted children. He knew very little about the workings of a woman's body. She could pass this child off as his. First, she needed to know for certain she was pregnant.

Instead of going to her regular gynecologist, she made an appointment with Doctor James Bell. She had an affair with him at the end of the summer that lasted very briefly. If she was pregnant, the baby might be his or might be the product of several different one night stands. Either way, he would do what she wanted.

She sat in a chair in his office and waited. Doctor Bell walked in and looked at her.

"The rabbit died," he said looking at the file he held. "You're pregnant."

"Here's what's going to happen, James," Blythe said smoothly. "You're not going to tell anyone. Somehow, I don't think your wife would be too happy to find out about our relationship. Since the baby could be yours and she isn't able to have one of her own, she'd be devastated and probably leave you." She wrinkled her nose. "Very scandalous." She stood up and walked over to him. "Don't you agree?"

"I'm sorry I ever got involved with you," he whispered harshly.

"Oh, please," she smirked. "I'm not the only one you had a relationship with. I saw you at the Labor Day party with your nurse. You two were very, very cozy. I'm surprised your wife didn't notice." She patted his chest. "You'll keep this secret."

Slipping past him, she left.

At the end of November, John's squadron returned. Blythe slept with him that night. Shortly before Christmas, she told him she was pregnant. He was overjoyed. She was relieved.

1959

At the end of January, Meara told Blythe she was pregnant, too. Blythe knew she was due in June while Meara was due to give birth in September. Blythe continued to see Bell for her appointments. Meara never said a word and for that Blythe was grateful.

The squadron would stay in Virginia until January, 1960. Meara taught Blythe how to knit and they spent most afternoons sitting in the sun knitting blankets and clothes for their babies.

One warm afternoon in May, the men were out on training exercises and she and Meara sat in lounge chairs on Blythe's patio knitting and talking.

"Have ya settled on names for the wee one yet?" Meara asked.

"Gregory John if it's a boy and Amanda Lynn if it's a girl," Blythe answered. "What about you?"

"Reilly whether 'tis a boy or girl. Reilly Brigid for a girl and Reilly Gilroy for a boy."

Blythe laughed. "Reilly is your maiden name. It's fine for a boy but seems an odd choice for a girl."

"There will be no more Reilly's. My father is the last Reilly and he and Ma had fifteen girls. I want the name to continue somehow."

"Reilly McGrath. I like it."

"I like the sound of Greg House," Meara told her. "Mandy House is a good one, too."

Blythe stopped knitting and looked at Meara. "Oh, they probably would call her Mandy, wouldn't they?"

Meara nodded.

"I'll talk to John about a different name for a girl. I don't care for the name Mandy. We'll have to come up with one that can't be shortened. I do like the name Greg, though."

Meara looked at her and Blythe knew what she was thinking. Regardless of the baby's gender, Blythe had no idea what her child would look like. He or she definitely wouldn't look like John. All she could do was hope the baby had at least one of his features. Most likely the baby would be blue-eyed since John, his parents and her parents all had blue eyes. No matter what, he couldn't ever know the child wasn't his. She put down her knitting and placed her hand over her swollen belly. Beneath her hand, the baby kicked and she smiled. It didn't really matter because this was her baby.

On June 11, Blythe gave birth to a boy. Greg House came into the world screaming loudly. He had tufts of blonde hair and enormous blue eyes. When they brought him to Blythe, she looked down into his eyes and smiled. He turned his head and rooted against her breast. She opened her gown and guided him to her nipple. He latched on and began to nurse. It hurt but she didn't mind the pain. She stroked his head.

"You are perfect, Greg," she whispered.

On September 18, Meara gave birth to a girl. Blythe looked in the nursery window until she found the bassinet with Reilly. She had Meara's red hair and was almost the same size Greg was when he was born. She looked down at her son. He was sleeping but she held him up so he faced the window.

"That's Reilly," she told him. "Hopefully you two will be friends."


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Guess this should have been included in the first chapter, huh? Anyway, I don't own House or the characters from the show. I don't make any money from this. Also, I was reluctant to post this due to my past experiences on this site. Then I figured I may as well and see what happens. Enjoy!**

1963

A thick layer of snow covered the ground. A few stars shone in the inky dark November sky. The air was cold and sharp. John House and Gilroy McGrath trudged through the snow to their cars. John rubbed his hands, covered in thick leather gloves, over the lock on the driver's side door. The ice covering it melted away and he inserted his key, unlocking the door. As he started to slide in behind the steering wheel, Gil called out to him.

"Suppose they've already heard?"

"Then they've heard," John replied as he got into the car and drove toward home. As he navigated the winding streets of the base, his hands gripped the steering wheel and he allowed the tears to flow freely. He couldn't allow Blythe or Greg to see him crying, especially Greg. The boy, even though he was only four, was already showing signs of defiance and insolence. If Greg saw any sign of weakness in John, he'd lose even the tiny shred of respect he had for his father. No, John had to be strong for them. He couldn't be like Gil. Gil laughed and played with his two children, Reilly and Angus. He didn't require the same level of discipline John did. He liked and respected Gil. They were best friends and served as each other's wingman. However, John felt Gil's indulgence of his children would ruin them. Angus might never serve in the Marine Corps like his father because he wasn't learning the correct discipline now. No, John was doing Greg a favor. His son would follow in his footsteps. Greg would be the perfect reflection of John.

When he arrived home, he sat in the driveway for a few moments. He removed one glove and wiped his eyes before looking at himself in the rearview mirror. His eyes and nose were slightly red but that could be attributed to the intense cold. As he got out of the car, he saw Gil crossing the lawn.

"Meara and the kids must be here," he told John. Tears streaked his cheeks and John knew he'd make no effort to appear strong and stoic for his family.

The base houses were smaller than the ones back home. John didn't mind but he knew Blythe was unhappy here in Germany. Greg already picked up the language and translated for his mother when they went off base. Reilly did the same for Meara but Meara seemed more content than Blythe. John once heard Meara tell Blythe that so long as she was with Gil she was happy.

Both men entered the house to find Blythe and Meara sitting at the small dining table drinking coffee and talking. The children ran through the house pretending to be airplanes. Greg stopped short at the sight of his father and Reilly ran into him. She bounced off his stiff back and fell to the floor. Angus also stopped and stuck his thumb in his mouth. Slowly, Reilly stood and moved to Greg's side. He took her hand and they stood silent, waiting.

"Gil! What are ya doing here? You're supposed to be on duty," Meara said as she pushed away from the table and moved toward her husband. Her brow furrowed as she saw the tears sliding down his face. He gathered his wife in his arms and held her tightly.

Blythe looked at John and waited.

"President John F. Kennedy was shot about an hour ago in Dallas," he told her his voice even.

Blythe turned away so he couldn't see her cry. The children stared at him as Meara began to cry, clinging to Gil. Finally, Blythe turned to John.

"Are we going back to the States?" she asked tears brimming in her eyes.

"No," John told her as he removed his gloves and shoved them into his coat pocket. He shrugged out of it and hung it on the coat rack by the door. "But if he dies, the squadron will be sent out more often. Those Commies are probably jumping for joy, especially that damned Cuban, Castro."

Blythe looked toward the children. All three of them seemed to understand what John said. They were all exceptionally smart.

"We should go home," Gil said to his wife. "We have to report back at five in the morning for our new orders."

The phone rang and Blythe rose to answer it. John moved quickly past her and picked up the receiver.

"House," he said and then listened for several minutes. "Understood." Slowly he placed the receiver back in the cradle. Straightening his shoulders, he turned to face everyone. "President Kennedy is dead."

The next morning, Blythe stood in Meara's kitchen stirring pancake batter. Meara was at the stove frying sausages. The radio in the kitchen was on and they listened to the news of Kennedy's assassination.

"It's a shame and a disgrace," Meara sighed as she put the sausages on a platter by the stove. She greased the griddle and stood back to allow Blythe to drop pancake batter on it.

In the living room, they could hear the children playing. Meara wiped her hands on her apron and looked out at them. Greg and Reilly were building a massive structure with Lincoln Logs and Angus sat watching them as he rolled a block between his hands.

"Well, at least the children seem to be doing well," Blythe said. She flipped the pancakes over and looked at Meara. "How are you doing?"

"He was a good Irish Catholic," she replied referring to Kennedy. "He has two wee ones and that beautiful wife that have to go on without him. I couldn't do it."

Blythe flipped the cooked pancakes onto a plate warming on the back of the stove. "I think you could. You're the strongest woman I know."

Meara shook her head and tucked a stray fiery red curl behind her ear. She looked at Blythe. In the early morning light, Blythe could see the freckles scattered across her nose along with the dark smudges beneath Meara's eyes. She knew she didn't look much better. John spent most of the night ranting about Communists, Russians, Cubans and how the world was headed for hell in a handbasket.

"Did Gil keep you up talking about the assassination?" Blythe asked her.

"No, we just prayed for the family and our country. We also asked God to have mercy on the world. Did John keep you up? You look like shite this mornin'."

Blythe laughed. "Yes he did and thanks for noticing!"

"I know I look like shite the cat drug in from a bog," she laughed. Then she sobered. "I'm expecting another wee one. This one's due next April sometime. Reilly asked why Greg doesn't have any brothers or sisters. So, I'm askin'. Why no children with John? Are ya usin' birth control?"

Blythe flipped another batch of pancakes on the plate. "No, no birth control."

"Are you havin' relations with him?"

Blythe laughed softly. "Yes. I don't know why I haven't gotten pregnant. To be honest, I'm glad, though. Greg is enough on his own."

Meara set the kettle on the stove and lit the burner. She got out tea and cups. "He and Reilly are both too smart. They need proper learnin'. Gil taught Reilly to read and she turned around and taught Greg, as ya know. Maybe she'll be a teacher like me own Ma. I fear she's already smarter than us."

"I feel the same way about Greg. He frustrates John with his constant questions. But it's how he learns."

"And John punishes him for it," Meara said as she pulled a bottle of milk from the tiny refrigerator. "Don't think we don't notice. It weighs heavily on Reilly and us. Gil tries to talk to John, them being so close, but John says Gil is too soft on ours. Says they'll grow up weak." She snorted in derision. "Most likely Greg'll grow up to hate him and that would be a shame. Children should love and respect their parents. Course they can't do that without bein' shown what that looks like. I've said my piece and I'll speak no more of it. Unless John hurts the lad." Meara looked at Blythe who nodded.

They took the food and drinks to the dining room table. The children stopped playing and clambered up into the dining room chairs. Meara remained standing and blessed the food. Then she sat down next to Angus and prepared a plate for him. Blythe put a pancake and a sausage on a plate for Reilly then did the same for Greg. They both thanked her and then Greg reached for the butter and syrup. He deftly buttered Reilly's pancake before drizzling syrup over it. Then he did the same to his own. Reilly waited until he picked up his knife and fork then picked hers up. They began eating at the same time. Meara and Blythe looked at each other and smiled. Blythe knew as long as Greg had Reilly at his side he would be fine.


	3. Chapter 3

1964

On April 7, 1964, Meara gave birth to another boy. They named him Fitzgerald Kennedy McGrath. Reilly immediately dubbed him Boo. Meara did everything she could to keep Reilly from calling the baby by that name. She blamed Gil since he was the one who read uTo Kill A Mockingbird/u to both Reilly and Greg in the months leading up to Fitz's birth. Gil merely laughed and said at least she acknowledged her little brother. When told by her parents that she would be a big sister again, she announced she would not accept anything other than a sister.

In June, they moved to Portugal. Both Greg and Reilly celebrated their fifth birthdays on the base. They picked up Portuguese as quickly as they did German. Meara and Blythe enrolled them in the school on base. Both children absorbed knowledge like a sponge absorbs water.

One afternoon in December, Greg stomped into the house and threw his books on the kitchen table.

"What's wrong, Greg?" Blythe asked. She sat on the couch in the tiny living room knitting a new sweater for him.

"Nothin'," he scowled as he stomped off to his bedroom. Blythe flinched when he slammed the door.

Putting her knitting in the basket beside the couch, she got up and went into his room. He lay face down on the bed, legs splayed and his head buried in his arms. Blythe sat down next to him and stroked his back.

"You know we don't slam doors around here," she reminded him softly.

"Don't care."

"What happened?" she asked.

"Girls are stupid. Especially that dumb old Reilly."

"Reilly is just as smart as you. Why do you think she's stupid?"

He rolled over and sat up. Pushing his light brown hair out of his clear blue eyes, he looked at her. "She's supposed to be my best friend. 'Cept today she played with a bunch of dumb girls at recess. She knows she's supposed to play with me. None of the other kids will play with me."

"Did she ask you to play with her and the other girls?"

Greg rolled his eyes. "I'm not playing girl games with a bunch of other girls. Jeez, Mommy."

Blythe suppressed a smile. "So what did you do?"

"I told her she was a moron and played by myself. She got mad at me, Mommy! I didn't do anything wrong and she yelled at me in front of all the other idiot kids. I'm going to get me a new best friend. And not some dumb girl, either."

"Well, telling Reilly she's a moron probably hurt her feelings. I know it would hurt mine. Why don't we go next door and talk to her?"

"No."

Blythe got up and smoothed her dress. "Okay. You need to change your clothes. Do you have any homework?"

"I did it at lunch. It's too easy."

Blythe knew that was true. Both children completed all their schoolwork in record time and were more advanced than their classmates. She also knew Greg told the other children they were morons and idiots. That combined with his massive intellect made the other children dislike him.

"I'm going to start dinner," she told him. "You can dust and sweep the floors."

Greg muttered something under his breath but got off the bed as she left the room.

When John arrived home, the house was immaculate and dinner was ready to be served. They all sat at the kitchen table and Blythe could see that John was angry. He took a few bites of the chicken she baked before looking at Greg.

"Your teacher called me in to see her today," he growled as he looked at Greg. "You've been insubordinate again. Last week, I ordered you to stop calling the other children names yet you disobeyed me. What do you have to say for yourself?"

Greg shrugged and shoveled some peas into his mouth. John reached out and grabbed his shoulder.

"You respond when I ask a question, soldier!"

Greg turned to look at John with thinly disguised contempt. "I'm not a soldier. I'm a kid."

"Go to your room!"

Greg's lip curled in disgust. As he got up, John reached out and slapped him hard. A red mark blossomed on his cheek in the shape of John's hand.

"John!" Blythe gasped.

"Stay out of this," he snapped. He grabbed Greg and pulled him to his room. He returned to the table and dumped the food on Greg's plate in the trash before putting the plate in the sink. Then he sat down and finished his own dinner. Blythe ached to go check on her son. She'd never seen John so angry. He scared her.

When he finished eating, John got up and went into the living room to read the paper and listen to the news on the radio. Blythe quietly cleaned up the kitchen and fixed a chicken sandwich for Greg. She filled a glass with milk and started to carry them to his room. John looked up at her.

"He doesn't eat."

Blythe swallowed. "He's a child…."

John moved across the room, grabbed the plate and slapped her. "Never disobey me again." He took the plate into the kitchen and Blythe stood in the middle of the room holding her cheek. John stomped past her and came back a moment later dragging Greg by the arm. He opened the back door, pushed Greg out, closed it and locked it. Then he turned on Blythe.

"He's sleeping outside tonight. Maybe then he'll think twice about disobeying me. Now go to bed. I'm sleeping out here to make sure you don't let him in."

In that moment, Blythe hated him more than she ever hated anyone. She wanted nothing more than to leave him. However, she knew she had nowhere to go so she and Greg were stuck. Silently, she went into their bedroom and locked the door.

Reilly looked out her bedroom window at the full moon. Then she looked around and saw Greg lying on the patio next door. Silently she got up and listened at her bedroom door. Her parents were talking so she closed the door and crossed the room to her bed. She arranged several of her stuffed animals under the covers on her bed. If her parents looked in, it would appear she was in bed asleep. Then she grabbed the extra blanket from the chest in the corner of her room and crawled out the window. Stealthily, she crept across the lawn until she was on the House's patio. Greg lay curled up, shivering slightly. Without a word, she lay down next to him and covered them both with the blanket. He pressed up against her as if trying to absorb as much of her warmth as possible.

"What happened?" she whispered.

"He thinks I'm a soldier. I disobeyed a direct order. I hate him."

"I'm gonna tell Daddy."

"No!" he whispered harshly. "Just...just stay with me."

"Okay."

He was silent for a few minutes. Finally, he whispered something so softly, Reilly couldn't hear him.

"What?" she breathed.

"I'm sorry. You aren't a moron. I was just mad you played with those girls. You're mine. Not theirs."

"Why can't I be both?"

"I don't wanna share you," he sighed.

"But I'm a girl and I like doing girl stuff sometimes," she whispered back. She shifted until she faced him. "You need a boy friend to play with."

"The boys here are morons."

"That's why they don't play with you, you know."

"That's what I have you for. Or I did."

"I will always be yours, Greg, but sometimes I want to play with girls and do girl stuff. That doesn't mean you aren't my best friend in the whole wide world."

"Girls are stupid." Then he laughed softly. "'Cept not you. You're not stupid."

"Good. Cause I wanted to punch you in the face today. And you know I can beat you up."

They both laughed and snuggled together for warmth. Within minutes they were both asleep.

At dawn the next morning, Blythe unlocked the back door and looked at Greg and Reilly curled around each other sleeping. She went to them and shook them awake.

"Go home before your mother realizes you're not in bed," she told Reilly. As the child got up, Blythe pulled her into her arms and hugged her tightly.

"Don't worry, Aunt Blythe," Reilly whispered in her ear. "I'll always take care of Greg. We belong to each other." Then she broke free, grabbed her blanket and was gone. Blythe blinked back tears then looked at Greg.

"Your father got called away for a mission. He'll be gone at least a month," she told him.

He sagged in relief. Looking up at her, he touched the bruise on her cheek. "I hate him." he said quietly.

Blythe stood up and held out her hand. He got up and took it. She smoothed his hair.

"You take a bath while I fix your breakfast. You don't want to be late for school," she said as she led him inside.


	4. Chapter 4

1969

They left Portugal and moved into their new home on a base in Egypt the same day as the moon landing. The tension between Greg and John only grew. John's punishments became harsher. Blythe had to stand by and watch as John subjected Greg to ice baths for not listening, withholding food for being late to dinner, and more nights sleeping outside for being too inquisitive. She watched as Greg withdrew further and further into himself. He slowly became an automaton whenever John was around. The only time he seemed happy and relaxed was around Reilly. Blythe quickly learned not to try to stop John. The few times she did, he beat her. She and her son learned to be very careful around John House.

Now they were in Egypt and school wouldn't start for over a month. John immediately left on a mission and Blythe breathed a sigh of relief because he would be gone for two months.

One afternoon in early August, Greg and Reilly came into the house carrying several books. They put them on the dining room table and began to read. Soon, Greg got up and got them both a notepad and pencils. They began taking notes and talking softly. Meara walked in with a baby balanced on her hip. Kieran and Catriona were born in Portugal. Meara and Gill now had five children all approximately two years apart. After Catriona's birth, Meara declared she was done having children.

'There ya are," she said when she saw Reilly. She held Catriona out to her oldest. "Take her. I canna take another minute of dealing with you children."

Reilly took Catriona from her mother and held her sister on her lap. Meara went into the living room and sank down in a chair.

"I'm goin' to have another one," she groaned. At the table, Reilly laughed. "A curse on ya!" her mother shouted.

"Why not use birth control?" Greg asked without looking up from the book he read.

"Because it goes against God's will, ya wicked boy," Meara sighed. "And don't go tellin' me again that there isn't a God. I'll scream like a banshee if ya do."

He and Reilly exchanged looks and went back to reading.

"I'm gettin' too old and too tired," Meara told Blythe. "All this moving hither and yon. It's gettin' to be too much."

"You're only twenty-six," Blythe reminded her softly.

"And I'm goin' to be twenty-seven and have six children," she whispered back. She leaned close to Blythe. "The Church approved methods doan work. I like sex too much and God's punishin' me."

"Your accent always gets thicker when you're tired," Blythe commented.

"I never bloody sleep. Between the baby and Gil being gone for months at a time I canna get a decent wink of sleep."

"I'll take the kids for a week if it will help," Blythe told her.

"Oh, say yes, Mom!" Reilly called out.

"Could we all stay here with ya?" Meara asked.

"Of course. We'll sleep in my bed and the kids can sleep in Greg's room."

Mear pushed herself up. "At least I know you can't get me pregnant. I'll go round up the rest of those hooligans of mine and we'll stay with you two until you boot us out."

Reilly and Greg looked at each other and smiled. Meara saw them. "You'll be sleepin' on the couch, my saucy lass."

"Aww, Mom," Reilly groaned.

Meara dropped a kiss on her head as she passed. "Poor you,"

Meara and the children spent almost a month with Blythe and Greg. During that time, Greg and Reilly learned all they could about embalming and then spent several days visiting tombs. They even found a dead rat and embalmed it much to the horror of their mothers. When Gil and John returned, Greg withdrew again and the tension increased. Blythe feared the day it would come to a head.

Greg and Reilly's teacher, Mrs. Conway, realized both children grew bored quickly in class because the material provided was too easy for them. They never misbehaved in class. Both kept books in their desks which they read while the other children completed the assignments. So, Mrs. Conway asked Blythe and Meara if they would allow her to tutor them for about an hour each day after school ended. That way she could work with them on subjects that would challenge them. Blythe and Meara agreed.

One afternoon in May, 1970, Greg and Reilly walked from the base school toward their houses. Reilly was unusually quiet. Finally, Greg pinched her arm causing her to squeal and punch him in the stomach.

"Ow!" he shouted. "Why'd you have to do that?"

Reilly looked at him and shook her head causing her golden red curls to fly. Dark brows lowered over light blue eyes. "Cause you pinched me!" She rubbed her arm. "I was thinking not ignoring you, you big meanie."

"You're the meanie."

Reilly stuck her tongue out at him and they continued toward home.

"What are you thinking about?" Greg finally asked.

"Genetics," she replied. "Mrs. Conway said our genes determine our physical attributes. Since Mom and Dad both have red hair, we all have red hair. But only Mom has curls which is why me, Gus, and Cat have curly hair. Dad has brown eyes which are a dominant trait so everyone except me has brown eyes. Mom and Dad have freckles so we all have freckles. They both have really pale skin so we're all pale, too. But you have dimples."

"I'm not related to you, remember?"

Reilly made a face at him. "Mrs. Conway said for a child to have a trait like dimples both parents have to carry the gene. Some people in your mom's family have dimples but no one in Uncle John's family does. At least not in any of the pictures I've seen. So, if he doesn't have that gene…." Her voice trailed off and she looked down at the sidewalk.

Greg stopped and she turned back to look at him. He had what Reilly called his "Got it!" face.

"He's not my father," he whispered. "If he doesn't have that gene and no one in his family has dimples then he's not my father."

He looked at Reilly. A slow smile curved his mouth.

"That is not a good smile, Greg House," Reilly told him.

"I can't wait to tell him."

"NO!" Reilly shouted then looked around. When she saw they were alone, she took a deep breath "No. He'll do something horrible to you. You know how mean and spiteful he can be."

"We're going to learn more and when we do, I'm going to tell that mean old man he isn't my real father."

"But what about Aunt Blythe?" Reilly asked.

Greg shrugged and began walking. Reilly groaned and followed him.

For the next month, they challenged Mrs. Conway with their questions about genetics. Finally, in June, school ended and so did their tutoring sessions. Mrs. Conway's husband was transferred. It didn't matter to Greg. He knew enough to be certain John House wasn't his father. John was away during the time Greg was conceived. He snuck into his parent's room and looked it up in John's log book. According to the log book, John was in Okinawa from the end of July until the end of November. Then he got his mother's datebook from 1958 and noticed there were no notations for her monthly cycle starting in September. No one in John's family had dimples. His mother's eyes were brown and while John had blue eyes most of his family members also had brown eyes. It was enough information for Greg. Even Reilly finally acknowledged that John House couldn't be Greg's biological father.


	5. Chapter 5

1972

The day before Greg's thirteenth birthday, he and Reilly walked to their favorite tomb.

"I'm telling him tomorrow after my party," Greg told her.

"He's going to do something horrible to you, Greg."

"What's he gonna do he hasn't already done?"

"I wish I'd never mentioned your stupid dimples."

"I'd have figured it out anyway. I'm just as smart you are," he scoffed.

"Not according to our IQ tests." She glanced at him out of the corner of her eye.

"At least I'm not a girl," he countered.

"No, you just wish you were," she replied with a saucy grin.

His eyes narrowed and she took off running with him close on her heels.

The next day, Reilly watched Greg closely during his birthday party. John and her father sat on lawn chairs watching the festivities. Her father sat next to the grill where hamburgers sizzled. Several boys from school came and they all played kickball in the backyard. Reilly's team lost to Greg's and he danced around her until she jumped on him. They rolled around for a minute or two then got up when Blythe and Meara began to bring out the food. They ate the hamburgers along with homemade crispy onion rings and root beer. Then Blythe brought out Greg's cake. He closed his eyes and blew out the candles. Once the cake was sliced and passed around, Reilly sat next to Greg on one of the blankets spread out on the lawn.

"I know what you wished for," she told him after swallowing a bite of cake.

"Do not," he told her and wiped some frosting off her top lip. He sucked it off his finger and then took a bite of his own cake.

"You wished that Uncle John would leave when you tell him."

Greg concentrated on his cake.

"He probably won't and you'll get in trouble. The worst trouble ever. Please don't say anything."

Greg got up and joined a group of boys sitting on another blanket. Reilly sighed, got up and threw her cake in the trash. For the rest of the afternoon she ignored Greg and played with her sisters, Catriona and Eithne.

After all the guests left and everything was cleared up, Blythe started cooking dinner. John sat on the couch in the living room watching television while Greg sat on the floor putting together the model motorcycle the McGrath's gave him. Thirty minutes later, Blythe came out of the kitchen and asked Greg to set the table.

"Sure, Mom. I'll do it in a minute," her son replied.

"Do it now like she commanded, son," John said dangerously.

Greg stood slowly and turned to face him. "I am not your son."

John stood up and Blythe came running from the kitchen.

"You are my son," John informed him.

"You were in Okinawa when I was conceived. You don't carry the gene for dimples. I wouldn't have them if I was your son. Your second toe is longer than your big toe. Mine isn't. Though you have blue eyes, Mom and some of your family don't. So, if I was your son, I'd have brown eyes. I don't. You are not my biological father."

All the color drained from John's face. He swallowed several times and then looked at Blythe. Tears streamed down her face. John walked past Blythe and her son to the front door. He opened it, walked out and quietly closed it behind him.

Greg turned to look at his mother. "I am not his son," he told her calmly before walking back to his room and closing the door. Blythe stood in the living room sobbing. The day she feared finally came.

John returned several hours later. Blythe sat on the couch staring at nothing,

"I'd like my dinner now," he told her stiffly.

She jumped slightly then got up and pulled his plate out of the oven where she kept it warm for him. He ate in silence then got up and went to bed.

The remainder of the summer, he said nothing to Blythe about Greg or his paternity. Greg spent most of that summer in his room. When John had something to say to him, he typed it out and slid the paper under Greg's door.

When Greg returned to school, John treated him with a cool civility. Things were never the same between them.

They moved from Egypt to The Philippines. Greg and John rarely spoke and Greg spent most of his time either on the beaches with Reilly or in his room reading.

One sunny afternoon, Greg and Reilly came running in dripping water all over the floor. Both held hand made spears with fish wriggling on the ends.

"We caught dinner!" Greg told his mother excitedly. "Reilly said we can keep hers, too, since it isn't enough to feed her whole family. But, we're going to catch more for them."

Blythe laughed. "Well, thank you, Reilly. Go put them in the sink. We'll have fried fish for dinner."

Both children ran into the kitchen and then dashed back out with their spears tucked under their arms. She mopped up the water off the floor and went into the kitchen to prepare the fish.

Later that summer, one of the boys from the base developed a crush on Reilly. Blythe and Meara weren't surprised. Reilly was as tall as Greg with long red-gold curls, large pale blue eyes and creamy skin that turned pale gold under the hot sun. She had long legs, a narrow waist and small, perfectly formed breasts. What did surprise them was Greg's reaction to the boy. Greg beat him up when he caught the boy kissing Reilly. Reilly was so angry with Greg she refused to speak to him for several days. Blythe was grateful John never found out. She had no idea how he would react.

The following week, Reilly was walking along the beach gathering shells. She wore a navy blue one piece swimsuit. She looked up when she saw Greg walking toward her. She quickened her pace but Greg caught up with her.

"Why'd you let him kiss you?" he asked.

She sighed and bent down to pick up an iridescent shell. She dropped it into the sack she carried. "I was curious," she replied. "I see Mom and Dad kissing all the time and they like it so much. I wanted to see what the big deal was."

Greg bent and picked up a perfectly formed brown and cream colored conch shell. He looked inside and pulled the conch out. Tossing the sea creature into the water, he handed it to Reilly.

"So, did you like it?" he asked.

"I don't know," Reilly sighed. "He put his tongue in my mouth. Then he bit my lip."

Greg shook his head in disgust. "He's an idiot. He didn't know what he was doing."

"Oh, and I suppose you do?" she scoffed.

"Of course I do," he told her as he bent down to pick up another shell.

"How many girls have you kissed?" she asked as she took the shell from him.

"Six."

"Do you put your tongue in their mouths?"

"Not at first," he told her. "There's a girl on base who taught me to French kiss. She is very talented. She let me feel her up."

"Are you talking about Susie?" she asked as she bent down and picked up a dried up starfish.

"Yeah. She's got great tits."

Reilly snorted. "She lets all the boys do that and even some of the girls."

Greg stopped and put his hand on her arm. "Seriously?"

"Yes," she told him. "She's slutty."

"No, I mean about the girls," he breathed with a glint in his eyes.

She clicked her tongue and rolled her eyes. "Yes."

He released her arm and they resumed walking. The tide began to come in so they turned back.

"Think she'd let me watch?" Greg asked as they approached the road leading back to the base.

"Why would you want-" Reilly began. "Oh, yuck! You mean the girls."

"Yeah."

"Probably," she told him. "She lets other girls watch."

"Have you watched?" he asked.

"No," she replied with a note of disgust. "I don't even watch her with the boys."

"I'm gonna ask her."

"Of course you are."

School started and Reilly and Greg spent all their time together. She never asked him about Kim and he never said anything to her about the other girls. Their teacher, Mrs. Jenkins, approached Gil and John about moving them both up a grade level. Both men refused. Reilly was happy but Greg was furious.

"He's always screwing things up for me," he fumed.

He and Reilly sat on a blanket on the beach watching crabs race away from the terns that soared overhead.

"Why do you want to move up a grade, anyway?" Reilly asked as she dug her bare toes into the sand.

"To learn more. Duh."

"We learn enough and we get tutored by Mrs. Comstock after school. Plus, we're learning to play the guitar," she reminded him. "We might not have time for that and be able to come to the beach every afternoon if we move up a grade. Besides, I like our teacher. She gives us extra work."

Greg shrugged. "He didn't even ask if I wanted to do it. Just told Mrs. Jenkins no. At least Uncle Gil asked you."

When they returned to their homes on base, John was waiting for Greg.

"You start football practice next week," John informed him.

"I didn't sign up for football," Greg told him. "I signed up for track."

"You start football practice next week," John repeated. "You aren't going to be on the track team. You're going to play football. I played football and so did your grandfather."

Greg stared at him with intense hatred before walking out. He stomped over to Reilly's house. When he walked in, Meara and Gil looked up at him from the couch.

"She's out back with the rest of the kids," Gil told him. "You might like playing football."

"I wanted to be on the track team with Reilly," Greg told him.

"I know," Gil told him. "Your dad thinks you spend too much time with Reilly and not enough time with boys your own age."

"Go talk to her," Meara told him.

He pushed open the back door and saw Reilly playing soccer with her siblings. Reilly carried Eithne on her back as she kicked the ball. Greg joined them and they were soon shouting and laughing. Finally, Meara came out to collect the younger children. Greg and Reilly sank down in the thick green grass. In the trees overhead, parrots called out.

"He signed me up for football," Greg told her as he pulled up tufts of grass.

"But, we're going to do track together."

"Your dad said John thinks I spend too much time with you and wants me to spend time with the other boys," Greg told her.

Reilly lay back and looked up at the sky. Greg stretched out beside her.

"He can't keep us apart," she told him.

"I know. I just don't want to play football."

They lay together in the lush grass until Meara called them in for dinner.


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: Now you're caught up with the readers at LJ, Dw, and AO3.**

1973

They left The Philippines and moved to Japan. Greg and Reilly both turned fourteen that summer. They were still best friends but they each made new friends at school. Greg no longer told the other children they were morons; at least not to their faces. When Reilly went off to spend time with "those stupid putas," as he called them, he spent time with his new friend, Rick. One Saturday, Greg, Reilly, Reilly's friend, Emily, and Rick decided to go rock climbing. Emily liked Greg and convinced Reilly to help her get to know him. Reilly told Greg who shrugged.

"She's cute," he told Reilly. "She can hang out with us."

Reilly smiled and Emily squealed when she told her.

Emily tried to flirt with Greg until he grabbed her, kissed her and told her to settle down. She did and they walked to Iwakuni Mountain. They all carried backpacks filled with ropes, grappling hooks, water and snacks. Once they arrived at the base of the mountain, Emily sat on the ground.

"I'll just wait here," she told them.

Greg shook his head. "Girls," he grimaced.

Reilly, Greg and Rick began their climb. They made it halfway up when Rick slipped and fell. He rolled down about thirty feet and lay still. Greg and Reilly scrambled down after him. He had several cuts and bruises but it was the deep gash in his side that caused Greg and Reilly to exchange a panicked look.

"We have to get him to a hospital," Greg said.

"We've got to get him back down first," Reilly reminded him.

Between the two of them, they got Rick down the mountain and to the nearest hospital. Emily followed behind them crying. Greg stopped outside a door leading into the hospital and turned on Emily.

"Stop crying like a damn baby and open the door," he commanded.

She sniffed and pulled open the door. "I don't like you anymore and I'm going home."

Reilly and Greg helped Rick through the door. "Good," Greg told her. "You're useless anyway."

Emily began to cry harder and ran off.

As they walked along the corridor, they knew they were in the wrong place. They saw a disheveled man mopping the floor. They approached him and Reilly asked him in halting Japanese where the emergency room was located.

He looked at the three of them with a bored expression. "Go down to the end of this hall and turn right. The emergency room is at the end of that corridor," he responded in perfect English.

Reilly thanked him but he ignored her and resumed mopping the floor.

They got Rick to the emergency room and called his parents. Once they arrived and were assured he would be fine, Greg and Reilly left.

"He spoke perfect English," Greg said as they walked back to the base.

"He did. Seems unusual for a janitor to know English. And did you see how he looked? I wonder if he's a baraku."

"An untouchable?" Greg asked. "They usually deal with dead people not mops. Besides, they're also butchers and leather workers."

Reilly shrugged and let the matter drop.

Three days later Rick developed an infection. Greg and Reilly were visiting him when his temperature spiked. They stood in a corner of the room and watched as the doctors tried to determine what caused the infection. Finally one suggested they call in Saburo. They other doctors shook their heads.

"He'll die and the Americans will cause trouble for us. I will go get him," Rick's doctor said.

Thirty minutes later he returned with the janitor Greg and Reilly met in the hallway when they first brought Rick in. He ignored the doctors and pulled the dressing off Rick's jagged cut. He gave Rick a thorough exam and turned to the other doctors.

"He got the infection here because you're all idiots," he growled. "I will take over his care because you will kill him with your stupidity."

The other doctors averted their eyes.

"He is an American," Saburo continued. "They do not care that I am Burakumin. Now get out,"

Slowly, they walked out of the room. Saburo looked at Greg and Reilly.

"Your friend will live. Get out," he told them.

They nodded and left.

"I was right," Reilly said as they walked out of the hospital. "He is an untouchable. But he's also a doctor. I bet he went to America to study medicine but had to come back here for some reason."

"Did you see how the other doctors treated him?" Greg asked then continued without waiting for an answer. "It killed them to ask him for help and he just didn't even give a shit what they thought of him. He was the smartest guy in the room; the one with the answer. They had to let him help Rick even though they think he's a piece of crap. And he didn't care."

Reilly looked at him. "No. No he didn't."

At the end of July, Meara, Gil and Blythe sat down with Reilly and Greg at the dining room table at the McGrath's house. John was conspicuously absent. Brochures were spread on the table in front of the adults.

"We've talked it over," Gil began. "You're both too smart to continue attending the base schools. In September, you'll both be going to Langston Academy in New Hampshire. You'll live on campus and get the education you need."

Reilly and Greg exchanged a look.

"You both qualify for full academic scholarships and we can afford to pay yer room and board along with some pin money," Meara told them.

"Who'll help you with the kids?" Reilly asked her mother.

Meara smiled. "Don't be worryin' yer head about that. The boys and Catriona will be in school and Eithne is no trouble. You need to be around other young ones like yerself, Reilly."

"When do we leave?" Greg asked.

"Your mom will take the two of you over there in two weeks before school starts," Gil told him.

"It's a feeder school for Harvard," Blythe said. "The headmaster at Langston said you could both be accepted there with no problem."

"We both want to go to medical school, too," Reilly said. "We want to be doctors."

Tears welled up in Meara's eyes. Blythe and Gil smiled at them.

"You'll both make grand doctors," Meara sniffed.

Gil cleared his throat. "Well, I guess it's settled, then. You're going to Langston."

Reilly was in her room with an open suitcase on her bed. She slowly and methodically folded the clothes piled on her bed and put them in the suitcase. A trunk with all her books and keepsakes was shipped to her dorm room at Langston the week before. Catriona and Eithne sat on the bottom bed of the bunkbed in the corner of the room they shared with their older sister.

"When are you coming back?" Cat asked her eyes wide as she watched Reilly pack.

"I'm not sure. Probably Christmas."

"That's a long time," Cat said. "Who's gonna help me with my homework?"

"Gus or Boo can help you."

"They're mean boys," Cat whined. "Greg is going, too. Eithne and me won't have nobody to help us."

"Mom will help you," Reilly said as she looked over at her sisters and smiled.

"Mommy always curse stuff she doan unnerstan," Eithne piped up. "A curse on ya!"

She sounded so much like their mother the girls laughed.

Greg strolled in and Reilly looked over her shoulder at him. His light brown hair touched his shoulders and curled over his forehead. He wore a Led Zeppelin t-shirt and faded bell bottom jeans along with beat up sneakers. He crossed the room and picked up Eithne so he could sit on the bed. Once he settled her on his lap, he looked at the pile of clothes.

"Girls," he groaned. Catriona and Eithne laughed. Catriona snuggled up against his side and he put an arm around her. "You have too much stuff. I gave away a bunch of sh-stuff. You should, too."

"Everything I have is part of a wonderful memory. Mom is keeping the things I'm not taking until I have my own house," she replied. "Besides, you are the least sentimental person I know."

"What does that mean?" Cat asked.

"It means Reilly needs a bunch of junk to help her remember stuff because her memory is faulty."

Reilly ignored him and kept packing.

"Who gets our Fatty Fat Rat?" he asked referring to the rodent they embalmed in Egypt.

"Mom said she'd keep him here," she told him.

Eithne leaned against Greg's chest and began to suck her thumb. He pulled her thumb out of her mouth and looked down at her. "You'll end up with teeth like Fatty Fat Rat if you keep sucking your thumb,"

She looked up at him. "Like him," she replied before putting her thumb back in her mouth.

He laughed. "They're your teeth." He looked at Reilly. "You've been MIA the last couple days. Rick's been asking about you."

"I've been packing and I'm not interested in Rick."

"Why are you moping?" he asked.

Reilly looked at him in surprise. "Because I'm leaving my family. Greg, we're never going-"

"Hey, you two little rugrats, go outside and play," he said cutting Reilly off and frowning at her. "You can play with my basketball. It's in the backyard."

The two girls scrambled off the bed and raced out of the room. Greg got up and shut the door. He returned to the bottom bunk and stretched out on it.

Reilly shoved the clothes aside and sat on her bed. "We're never going to live with our parents again," she told him. "Maybe you don't care about that but I do and it makes me sad."

He folded his hands behind his head and stared up at the bunk over his head. "I'll miss Mom but I'm really excited about being away from him. Besides, we'll have each other. Same as always."

"I know you hate Uncle John and I'm glad you're finally getting away from him. But I love my parents. I love Gus, Boo, Keiran, Cat and Eithne. Yes, I'll have you but I won't have them. I'm used to them."

"You'll still see them. It's not like they're all dying."

"Geez, your compassion and caring overwhelms me," she said with a sharp edge of sarcasm.

He didn't answer. Reilly stood and went back to packing.

"I'm going to miss your family, too," he said softly. "But, so long as I have you, I'll still have my family with me. We belong to each other, remember?"

Reilly smiled. "Yeah, we do."

Reilly followed Greg and Blythe to the admissions office at Langston Academy. It was a massive red brick building surrounded by lush green lawns. She quickened her pace until she fell in place next to Blythe. Reilly slipped her hand into Blythe's and they entered the building. In a matter of hours, they were enrolled in their classes, shown their rooms and introduced to their roommates. When it came time for Blythe to leave, Reilly hugged her tightly. Greg hung back and stared at the ground. Reilly kissed Blythe's soft cheek and moved back. Blythe walked over to Greg and looked at him. When he finally looked up, Blythe smiled and wrapped him in her arms.

"I'll miss you. Please try to behave," she whispered. "And remember, you are perfect just as you are."

Greg hugged her briefly and stepped back. "Bye, Mom."

"I love you," she told him.

He nodded.

She turned to Reilly. "I love you, Reilly, Keep an eye on him for me."

"I will," Reilly promised. "I love you, too. Have a safe trip back."

Blythe turned and walked to the waiting cab. She got in and looked at them through the window. As the cab pulled away, she waved. Reilly waved back and a sob escaped her.

"Geez, Reilly," Greg choked. "Stop being such a girl." He turned and wiped his eyes.

Their faculty advisor, Doctor Allen, approached them. "Goodbyes are always hard. Come on, I'll walk you both back to your dorms. Dinner is between five and seven."

They followed the tall, dark haired woman across the campus. There was already a slight chill in the air and some of the trees were beginning to show their bright fall colors. A faint scent of wood smoke drifted on the air.

"When were you two last in the States?" Doctor Allen asked as they walked.

"Umm, when we were about a year old," Reilly told her. She looked around at all the buildings and the people walking along or standing in groups talking.

"Have you two always been together?"

"Yeah," Greg answered.

"Greg, we don't say yeah here when addressing adults," Doctor Allen told him kindly. "It's sir or ma'am."

"Yes, ma'am," Greg said tightly. "We've always been together."

"Well, you'll have a chance to meet other children here. It will be good for you." She stopped in front of Greg's dorm. "Here you are, Greg. If you need anything, I'm available."

Greg looked at Reilly. "See you at dinner."

She nodded.


	7. Chapter 7

1974

At Langston, Greg and Reilly were in all the same classes. They sat together, ate together and studied together in the large, quiet library. Reilly joined the Junior Varsity field hockey team and Greg joined the JV lacrosse team. They spent Saturday mornings in the music room practicing piano and talking. They occasionally went into the local town to buy records and mail letters to Blythe and the McGraths. Sometimes their roommates, Hilary and Tom, joined them but for the most part, Greg and Reilly stuck together.

When they left for Christmas break, they joined their families on a base in Rota, Spain. John greeted Greg and then left him alone for the remainder of his stay. They spent Christmas Day with the McGraths. As they opened presents, Blythe sat down next to Reilly.

"Your academic advisor wrote to us," she said quietly. Reilly looked over at her. "He said you and Greg haven't really made an effort to make new friends."

Reilly looked down at the sweater her mother knitted for her. "It's just easier. Most of the other kids come from rich families. We just don't have a lot in common with them."

Blythe waited as they were both handed presents. "Are you and Greg dating?" she finally asked.

Reilly snorted. "No way. He's Greg. He's my best friend and I love him but I don't love him love him. You know?"

"Okay. Doctor Allen wants the two of you to broaden your social circles. Maybe get to know some of the other students. You might have more in common with them then you realize."

Reilly shrugged and smoothed her hand over the jeans in the box on her lap. "I guess," she said and then looked up. Greg sat with her brothers helping them put together their new toys. "It's just I get homesick and being with Greg is like being home."

"I understand that."

"But, you're right. We need to make friends and stop being so dependent on each other."

"We don't want you two to stop being friends," Blythe told her. "Going to Langston is a wonderful opportunity and we want you both to make the very best of it."

"Did you tell Greg this?" Reilly asked.

Blythe laughed ruefully. "I thought it would be best coming from you. He trusts you."

"Sure. I'll talk to him about it."

Blythe took her hand and squeezed it. "Thank you."

They finished opening presents and Reilly helped clean up while Greg went outside with the children. Once everything was cleared away, they went into the kitchen and finished cooking the Christmas dinner. Reilly made bread sauce while her mother fried potatoes in goose fat. A huge turkey cooked in the oven. Blythe set the table then began pulling down the serving dishes. Finally everything was ready and they all sat down to eat. The meal was loud and festive with everyone asking and answering questions. John even asked Greg how school was going.

"You keeping up with the piano?" Gil asked him.

Greg nodded. "The teacher is okay but she's not like Mom."

"I completely agree with that," Reilly chimed in. "Aunt Blythe is a much better piano teacher. Miss Olney is more interested in the boys she teaches than she is in teaching."

"A grown woman is making eyes at young boys?" Meara questioned with narrowed eyes. "She should be fired."

"She just graduated from college, Aunt Meara, and she flirts a little with the senior boys," Greg told her.

"Still," Meara said as she helped herself to more turkey. "She better not get any ideas about you, boyo."

Greg laughed. "She won't."

"Well, when you graduate and join the Marines, you won't have as much time for music," John told him.

"I'm not joining the Marines," Greg said quietly.

"Of course you are."

"No. I'm going to be a doctor."

"And just who's going to pay for that?" John asked. "This private school is expensive enough. I'm not paying for college and medical school when you can serve your country and then go to college on the GI Bill."

"I'm not going to be a Marine. I'm going to be a doctor. I'll get a job and loans to pay for it if you won't."

"You're just going to throw the House tradition of service out the window?" John demanded.

"Yeah, I am," Greg told him looking him in the eyes. "I want to practice medicine."

"Well, you can't always get what you want," John informed him coldly.

"John, just let it go," Gil said quietly.

"In fact," Greg continued. "I think you're jealous. You're jealous of the opportunities I have."

Color flooded John's face. "I'm not jealous of you. You'll never be the man I am."

Greg wiped his mouth with his napkin and put it beside his plate. Standing up, he smiled grimly. "Believe me, I'm forever grateful for that fact," he said and then walked back to his room and shut the door.

"Damn your eyes, John House," Meara said. "Ya have a fine boy there and all you've ever done is belittle him and treat him like he's somehow less. He's smarter than you or me or Gil or Blythe." She threw her napkin down. "I'm ashamed to know ye. Ashamed." She stood and stomped to the front door. Flinging it open, she left.

Gil put his knife and fork down. "Thank Aunt Blythe and Uncle John for dinner, children," he said as he stood.

The children stood, quietly thanked them and followed Gil out.

Blythe looked at the food on the table. "You're pushing him farther and farther away. One of these days, he won't come back home. Then what will we do?" she asked her husband.

John resumed eating. "Nothing," he told her.

Greg and Reilly graduated from Langston in 1977. Reilly was the valedictorian and Greg was the salutatorian. They were going to Harvard in September. Both received full academic scholarships.

As Reilly packed up her dorm room for the last time, a knock sounded on the door.

"Come in," she called out.

Greg entered and slumped into her desk chair. "How come your mom isn't helping you with this?" he asked as he tossed a small box on her bed.

She picked it up with a smile. "Because she has five kids to keep track of and I'm more than capable of doing it myself," she told him.

Sitting on the bed, she opened the box. Nestled in snowy cotton batting was a delicate silver caduceus on a thin silver chain. Greg got up and took it out of the box. He unfastened the clasp and put it around her neck. She lifted her fiery red curls so he could fasten it.

"It's beautiful," she breathed. "Thank you."

He shrugged and sat back down in the chair. "Well, you got me the watch. I know you had to work a lot of overtime at the bookstore to afford it."

"I wanted you to have it," she told him. "Are you ready to go to Ireland?"

He nodded.

"Aunt Blythe still okay with you spending the summer there with me and my grandparents?"

He nodded again.

Reilly got up and resumed packing. "So, you and Dylan Crandall are going to be roommates at Harvard?"

"Someone needs to keep an eye on him. Besides, he has a car."

"Well, that's what I look for in all my friends," she teased.

"Eh, he'll be married before the end of the summer. So, I'll need to find a new friend once I get to college since you don't have a car."

"You're still a meanie," she laughed.

"Did you break up with What's-His-Name?"

"No," she sighed. "He broke up with me. I didn't want to sleep with him so he called me a cock tease."

"He's an asshole," he told her.

"You did try to tell me."

"You should always listen to me," he told her with a grin.

She laughed and closed the lid on her suitcase. Snapping the clasps closed, she picked it up and put it beside the door.

"Wanna go down for dinner one last time?" he asked.

"Yeah," she smiled.


	8. Chapter 8

1977

Greg and Reilly flew from New Jersey to Dublin, Ireland, where they stayed overnight. The next morning they flew from Dublin to Lismacleane where Reilly's grandparents waited for them. Greg wasn't sure what to expect when he met them but he was wasn't expecting them to be so young. He guessed them to be in their early fifties. Reilly's grandfather was a massive man with pale blue eyes, cropped auburn hair and deeply tanned skin. Her grandmother was tall and thin with short red-gold curls, eyes like Reilly's and skin like fine porcelain. They both smiled when they saw Reilly.

"There's me girlie," her grandfather said as he held open his arms to Reilly.

"Oh, Pa," Reilly said as she rushed to be enfolded in his embrace. He kissed the top of her head and then held her out to look her over. Tears shone in his eyes.

"You look jus' like yer dear Ma," he said smiling broadly.

"Get away with ya," her grandmother said to him and took Reilly's hands in hers. "You are a beauty and tall just like me sweet Meara." Then she pulled Reilly close and hugged her tightly.

"Pa, Nan, this is Greg House," Reilly said as she pulled away from her grandmother. "Greg these are my grandparents, Tad and Gaia Reilly."

"It's good ta finally meet ya, Greg," Tad Reilly said with a smile.

"Yes, our dear Reilly talks about ya all the time," Gaia told him.

"It's nice to meet you, Mr. and Mrs. Reilly."

"Oh, there'll be none of that," Tad told him with a smile. "We're Pa and Nan. Well, come along you two. We'll head back to the farm and let ya get settled in."

He picked up their duffle bags and walked toward a dark green Land Rover with a canvas top. He opened the back and tossed their bags in then turned to look at them as they approached. Gaia held Reilly's hand and seemed reluctant to release her.

"You'll have to sit in the back but there's no help for it," Tad told them. "I took the back seat out and never put it back. Well, you're both young and healthy so you'll be fine."

Once they were on the road, Greg leaned close to Reilly. "I thought Aunt Meara was Mom's age," he whispered in her ear. "Your grandparents can't be older than fifty-five."

Color flooded Reilly's face. "It's different here," she whispered back. "Mom was fourteen when she met Dad and fifteen when they married. Nan married Pa when she was fifteen and he was sixteen. Mom just tells everyone she's thirty-nine. It's easier. Most people wouldn't understand."

"She's only thirty-five?"

"Shhh! Yes."

"Jesus, Reilly. She was still sixteen when you were born!"

"She turned seventeen in December."

"You think you know someone," he sighed.

"Dad knows how old she is and that's all that matters," Reilly whispered defensively.

"And you," he pointed out softly.

"I found her birth certificate."

He shook his head. "Everybody lies, I guess."

They arrived at the Reilly's sprawling farm near sunset. As Tad pulled in beside one of the barns, Reilly turned to Greg.

"My grandparents had fifteen girls. Mom is the oldest and Niamh, Ciara, Aoife, Ita and Maeve still live with them. Niamh is our age, Ciara is fourteen, Aiofe is twelve, Ita is seven and Maeve is three."

Greg stared at her in shock. "Jesus," he breathed. "Your grandparents have kids younger than your own brothers and sisters."

Reilly smiled sheepishly and shrugged. "They're good Irish Catholics. Which reminds me. They'll expect us to go to Mass on Sundays."

Greg rolled his eyes and grimaced. "This is supposed to be a fun summer."

Tad opened the back of the Range Rover. "It will be," she assured him as they got out.

It was a fun summer. They worked on the farm but they also visited Wales, Scotland, England and Dublin. They learned to repair stone fences, milk cows, tend to the sheep, pluck chickens and cook. Niamh spent all her time with them and they became close friends. Niamh and Greg were especially close. He never told Reilly what happened in the back pasture in the middle of July.

He was lying on his back watching the fat white clouds sail in the bright blue sky when Niamh joined him.

"Yer supposed to be watchin' the sheep not the clouds," she teased as she stretched out beside him in the fragrant grass.

"I can hear them," he smiled.

She rolled onto her side and propped her head up on her hand. Her auburn hair gleamed in the sunlight and her cat shaped blues eyes darkened with desire. Slowly, she reached out and ran her hand down his stomach to the waistband of his jeans. With a flick of her fingers, she unbuttoned them and his gaze dropped to the swell of her breasts beneath her t-shirt. Her nipples strained against the thin cotton. Leaning down, her lips grazed his. He reached up and cupped the back of her head. Deepening the kiss, his tongue slid against hers. His other hand slid beneath her t-shirt and cupped her breast, his fingers teasing the taut nipple. She moaned and slid the zipper of his jeans down. As they continued to kiss, she reached into his boxer shorts and pulled out his stiff cock. Then she pulled away and stripped her t-shirt off , kicked off her sneakers and shimmied out of her jeans. Greg sat up and pulled his t-shirt over his head and allowed her to strip the rest of his clothes off him. She grabbed her jeans, pulled a condom out of one of the pockets and rolled it on him.

"You've done this before," he breathed as he stroked her breasts.

"Aye," she agreed. She leaned down and kissed his again as she moved over him. Trailing kisses down his neck, she slid down on him and he groaned as she began to move. He bucked up against her and gripped her hips. Her wetness coated him and she guided his hand to her clit. He began to rub the slick, swollen nub as she moved faster. Sweat slicked their bodies and color bloomed on her pale skin. Her muscles clamped down on his cock and she threw her head back and moaned loudly. He tensed and growled as his own orgasm thundered through him. When he grew soft, she slid off him and removed the condom. She dressed and dug a small hole in the grass. Shoving the used condom in, she covered it up as he pulled his clothes on. Leaning down, she kissed him and then got up. Stretching like a lazy cat, she hummed with pleasure.

"Thanks," she told him and then walked off.

Greg sat up and watched her. Then he smiled and went back to watching the clouds.

At the end of August, they flew back to New Jersey. They took a bus to Harvard where their parents waited for them.

Blythe moved forward and hugged Greg. "How was Ireland?" she asked.

"We had to work on the farm but it was fun. I learned a lot."

She smiled at him. John nodded at him and Greg nodded back.

"We want to take you two out for lunch before you get settled in your dorms," Gil said.

The found a pizza restaurant close the the campus and they ordered two large pizzas with everything and salad. Greg sat next to Reilly and sipped his root beer.

"So, tell us about Ma and Da and the girls," Meara said.

Reilly proceeded to tell her mother all about the family and Greg leaned back in his chair. Looking around the restaurant, he saw Dylan Crandall in a corner booth with his parents. He smiled slightly. At least he wouldn't need to break in a new roommate.

When the pizza arrived, they all ate in silence for several minutes. Then John looked at Greg.

"What do you plan to major in?" he asked Greg.

"Organic Chemistry and Biology," Greg muttered without taking his eyes from his plate.

"So, you still plan to be a doctor."

"Yes, sir."

Blythe cleared her throat. "What about you, Reilly?"

Reilly smiled. "Biology and Math."

"Good choices," Gil told her. "Both will prepare you for med school."

"That's what I thought," she agreed.

"Do ya both plan to keep up your music?" Meara asked.

They nodded.

"Harvard has a good music program," Reilly said.

Silence descended on the table and they quickly finished eating. Gil and John paid the bill while Meara, Blythe and Reilly went to the restroom. Greg walked over to where Dylan sat with his parents.

"Hey, G-Man!" Dylan smiled. He turned to his parents. "Mom, Dad, this is Greg House."

Greg smiled. "Nice to meet you both."

Dylan got up. "I'll be back," he told them. He grabbed Greg's arm and pulled him outside.

"Got any weed, G-Man?" he asked.

"No, you moron. I'm with my parents and Reilly and her parents. You still have your car, right?"

Dylan nodded. "I met a girl. Name's Faye. She is a stone cold fox, G-Man. I really think she's the one."

"You've said that about every girl you've looked at."

"No, man, this time it's real. Deep, you know?"

"Right." Greg saw Reilly and their parents headed toward the exit. "I'll see you later."

Dylan watched Reilly walk out of the restaurant. "Man, she is one fine piece of ass."

"Shut up," Greg growled and walked away.

As they walked to the cars, Greg looked at Reilly. She was tall with long slender legs, firm high breasts, a narrow waist and flat stomach. Her red and gold streaked curls were piled on her head and a few ringlets framed her face. Her skin was pale and smooth. Freckles dotted her nose and cheeks. Her lips were full and pink. Dark lashes accentuated her large, clear blue eyes. When she smiled, her whole face lit up. He never noticed before but Reilly was beautiful. Shaking his head, he got into the car. She was his best friend. There was no way he could allow himself to think of her any other way.


	9. Chapter 9

1978

That spring after finals, Dylan and Greg hosted a party in their dorm room. So many people showed it spilled out into the hallway and down to the floor below. Reilly pushed her way through the throngs of inebriated partiers until she came to their room. Dylan sat on the window ledge sharing a bong.

"Hey, R-train!" he called out. "You made it. Wanna hit?" He held the bong out but she shook her head no.

"Where's Greg?" she asked.

"He's on the roof talking to Faye. Told me he'd do me a solid with her. I am so fucking in love with her, R-train."

Reilly smiled tightly and nodded. She pushed her way through to the entrance to the roof. Opening the door, she sprinted up the stairs. She knew how Greg was going to 'talk' to Easy Lay Faye. He complained about her and her flakiness. He felt she was sending Dylan mixed signals and was going to take care of it. Silently, she opened the door and stepped out onto the roof. She could hear Greg moaning and she felt anger course through her veins. She crept over to the corner and leaned back against the wall. The sound of a zipper being pulled up floated on the cool spring air.

"So, how do I get the money from him?" she heard Faye ask. "I know a guy who has some primo weed and I really want some for my trip."

"Tell him you need bus fare to visit your sick grandma," Greg's voice held a hint of laughter. "You're a scholarship kid like me and Reilly. He'll believe that. Ask him for a hundred. I guarantee he'll give it to you. But once he does, he's off limits. Got it?"

"Sure thing, Greg," she giggled. Shoes crunched on the gravel covering the roof. Reilly darted to a new hiding space and watched as Faye went back into the building. A moment later the sweet, cloying scent of marijuana drifted toward her. She stood and walked over to where Greg leaned against the high ledge of the roof. He looked up at her and then looked away.

"Why?" she asked.

"Does it matter?" he asked. "It worked. She'll leave him alone and he'll fall in love with someone else later tonight."

"After she's gotten money from him."

"Eh, he can afford it."

"Why did you have to fuck her?"

He laughed. "I didn't. She blew me. There's a reason she's called Easy Lay Faye, you know. She'll have sex with an amoeba if she can score a hit."

Reilly leaned over the ledge. She looked out over the campus. "You're changing."

"Nope. You're growing up and seeing me for who I really am." He took a long drag on the joint and held his breath. A moment later he released a cloud of smoke. "Do you hate me?"

Reilly turned around and took the marijuana cigarette from him. She inhaled deeply holding the smoke in as long as possible. She closed her eyes, tilted her head back and blew the smoke upward. They stood on the roof passing the joint back and forth until they finished it. Greg flicked the remains of it over the edge of the roof.

"So, do you hate me?" he asked again.

No," she said softly. "What you did was completely disgusting and really messed up but you did it because Dylan is your friend. I've tried to talk to him about Faye but he wouldn't listen. Your way wasn't right but I guess it was effective."

He leaned close to her and peered into her eyes. "Nope. Not high. So, we okay?"

"Yeah. You know I'm not going to judge you. I never have. But you are changing. I guess we both are."

He slung his arm around her shoulders. "Maybe we are."

They spent the summer with Reilly's grandparents in Ireland again. Reilly knew Greg's mother wanted to him come home for more than a couple weeks at Christmas. Now that both Gil and John were permanently stationed at the base in Quantico, Virginia, she encouraged him to go with Reilly. His mother knew why he didn't want to spend the entire summer with John and accepted the fact with grace.

When Greg and Reilly arrived at the airport, he already regaled her with countless jokes about Ballingarry, County Limerick. Finally, Reilly put her hand over his mouth and glared at him.

"You knew the name of this place last year," she growled. "Why no jokes then?"

He pulled her hand away and grinned at her. "Too caught up in the whole babies marrying babies and then contributing to the population explosion." He pointed a finger at her. "You laughed at some of them."

"Well, the first ten or so were funny. No, like you, they're just annoying," she said and pinched him.

He jumped away from her and grimaced. "I thought the days of beating me up were over."

"Oh, don't be such a baby," she told him with a grin.

Before he could answer, her grandfather pulled up and waved at them. He got out, hugged them both and tossed their bags in the back of the Land Rover.

"Ya both can squeeze in the front with me," he told them. "Yer Nan is at home waiting for ya."

"She's not sick, is she?" Reilly asked.

"No. You'll find out soon enough," he told her. "Niamh got herself in the family way."

"She had a baby?" Greg asked quickly.

'No, not yet but she's breedin' now and refusin' to marry the lad," Tad told him. "Says she don't want the wee one. Wants to put it up for adoption so she can move to Paris." He shook his head. "She's always been a wild one but I never thought she'd go this far."

Reilly slowly turned her head and looked at Greg. He knew that look all too well. She knew about Niamh and him.

The next day as they were cleaning out the stalls in one of the barns, Greg stuck his pitchfork in a pile of hay and went into the stall where Reilly spread out clean hay.

"Why didn't you say anything?" he asked.

Reilly moved past him to get the scoop used for feed. "About what?" she asked as she loaded the scoop with oats and brushed past him.

"Niamh and me. Last summer. We had sex."

Reilly dumped the oats in the trough nailed to the back wall of the stall. "Because it doesn't matter. I know all about Niamh. Pa's lost so many farm hands because of her. She seduced them and they wanted to marry her and she'd just laugh at them. All she wants is to move to Paris and be an artist. Pa and Nan want her to stay in Ballingarry and get married."

"Did she fuck a guy named Gary? Because that would make a great limerick."

Reilly laughed and tossed him the scoop. "Maybe. But you've already reached your joke limit for today."

He waggled his eyebrows at her. "There's always tomorrow." He scooped up some oats. "So, does Niamh have any talent? Besides fucking, that is."

Reilly sighed loudly. "She painted all the pictures in the house."

"Seriously?" he asked in shock. "I thought Pa bought them."

"Nope," Reilly said as she moved to the next stall. "Niamh is very talented. She should go to Paris. They'll let her go eventually and probably keep the baby. Or Aunt Roison or Aunt Kyna will take it."

Greg retrieved his pitchfork and began tossing hay into the stall where Reilly stood. "At least you're careful."

"I'm not sure I want to get married or have babies," she told him. "And there was just the one and we only did it twice. If that's what sex is like, I'll pass."

"He was a moron who obviously didn't know what he was doing," he said.

"So you said," she reminded him.

"I'm kinda surprised Aunt Meara is letting you go to med school."

"She is a little more progressive than you realize."

"She has six kids," he laughed. "She thinks birth control is a sin."

"And she also knows that not everyone wants to be like her and her mother," Reilly countered. "She loves us but I don't think she wanted to have so many kids. She's a better artist than Niamh."

Greg leaned on his pitchfork and looked at Reilly over the edge of the stall. "I didn't know that. Why doesn't she show any of her work?"

"You know that painting of you that Aunt Blythe has hanging in the living room? The one she told you she commissioned and the artist used a photo of you?"

"Aunt Meara did that? Why would my mom lie about that?"

"What is it you like to say? Everybody lies? My mom didn't want anyone to know."

"Do you lie to me?" he asked.

"You know how I tell you your jokes are funny?" she asked with a mischievous glint in her eye.

Greg grabbed a handful of hay and threw it at her. It floated around her, bits and pieces sticking to her hair. She laughed and they went back to work.

At the end of July, Niamh gave birth to a boy she named Ardan. At the end of August, she rode to the airport with Greg and Reilly. They went back to Massachusetts and she went to Paris. Six months later, Reilly told Greg Niamh returned to Ireland because she missed her son so much.

"Not everyone can fight that maternal instinct," he replied.

They were sitting in the campus library studying. A heavy snow fell outside blanketing everything in white.

"I guess not," Reilly replied. "Ugh, I hate all this snow."

"It's not so bad."

Both Reilly and Greg turned to look at the man who spoke. He was tall with black hair, green eyes, a square jaw and muscular build. He pulled out the chair next to Reilly and say down.

"Doug Ashley," he told Reilly never taking his eyes off her. "I've been waiting for an excuse to talk to you."

Reilly blushed and bit her lip. "I'm Reilly McGrath."

"I know," he replied smoothly. He took Reilly's hand and dropped a kiss on the inside of her wrist. Greg rolled his eyes.

"Greg House," he said pointedly. "You can call me House. You stalking Reilly?"

Doug laughed. "No, of course not."

"Which means you are," Greg replied.

"I've heard about you, too, House," Doug told him with an insincere smile. He turned back to Reilly. "Any way I can pull you away from your studies to get some coffee?" He leaned close to her and smiled into her eyes. "Just the two of us?"

She blinked several times then looked over at Greg. "Is that okay with you?" she asked.

Greg waved his hand and looked down at his book. "Go forth and drink coffee," he told her.

Doug stood, gathered up her books and tucked them under his arm. He pulled Reilly's chair back and took her hand.

"I'll see you at dinner," she told Greg as they walked away.

"No you won't," he muttered. He didn't. By the end of the school year, Reilly and Doug were engaged.


	10. Chapter 10

1979

They spent the summer In Ireland but this time Doug came with them. Greg did everything Tad asked of him but when he wasn't working, he disappeared.

One evening, Reilly sat on the steps leading up to the farmhouse twisting her engagement ring. Gaia came out and sat down beside her.

"He'll be back," she told her granddaughter. "But ya have ta know things are different now."

"They don't have to be," Reilly sighed as she watched the road leading into town.

"Oh, but they do. Ye're engaged. You'll be gettin' married and having wee ones. Greg knows that. You just have to give him time to get used to it. You two've spent evra second together since ya was born."

"We aren't getting married until I finish med school. Doug starts work at a law firm in Boston in September. He hopes to make partner by the time I leave med school. Greg just doesn't like him. Says he's phony."

"Well, he is a bit of a boot polisher," Gaia laughed.

"Nan!"

Gaia put her arm around Reilly's shoulders. "So long as ya love him it doesn't matter what the lot of us think."

"I do love him, Nana, So much. But I love Greg, too."

"But are ya in love with Greg? Do ya have the same feelins you have for him that you do for Doug?"

"No. Not really. Well, when Doug isn't around I don't really miss him because Greg's there. But I miss Greg when he isn't around."

Gaia sighed and kissed her cheek. "Seems to me ya have to sort some things out." She got up and walked back into the house. Doug came out a few moments later and sat down next to Reilly.

"Waiting on House?" he asked softly. "He said he was taking the bus to Shannon. He met a girl who lives there. He told Mr. Reilly he'd be back on Monday."

"Why didn't he tell me?"

Doug shrugged. "I thought he did." He didn't tell Reilly about the note House wrote her. He found it on her bed and tossed it in the fireplace. Doug didn't like House and the sooner he could pry the two of them apart the better. He was tired of sharing her with that arrogant prick who made her laugh and smile. She didn't even look at him the same way she looked at House. He didn't care that they'd been joined at the hip since birth. Reilly belonged to him now and House needed to move on.

"Well, I guess we should go inside," she told him standing up and stretching.

Doug stood and wrapped his arms around her. He nuzzled her neck. "Let's go out to the back pasture," he murmured against her soft, fragrant skin.

"We can't," she whispered. "My grandparents will get suspicious."

"I need to make love to you," he groaned softly. Grasping her hips, he pressed her against him so she could feel his erection.

"I really want to wait until we get married," she told him and kissed him. "I know it's old fashioned but I want to start our marriage out like my parents did. I love you and I really appreciate how patient you're being with me."

He slid his hands around her and squeezed her ass. "You're killing me here."

She gave him one last searing kiss. "Just think how good our wedding night will be," she whispered against his lips. Pulling away, she turned and walked back into the house. Doug grinned and followed her.

At the beginning of August, Greg and Reilly were digging post holes in the back pasture. Doug stayed up at the house saying he hurt his back the day before. Greg didn't believe him but didn't say anything. He finally had a chance to talk to Reilly alone.

"I got an apartment," he told her.

She looked up at him from where she was measuring the hole she dug. "Really? I wanted to but they're all taken."

"You could live with me."

Reilly sat back on her heels and wiped the sweat that ran down her face. "Seriously? I'd love that!"

"Would Smug?" he asked. He'd starting calling Doug that and it always made Reilly laugh though she never let Doug know.

"Doug will be living in Boston, remember? I'll only get to see him on the weekends," she reminded him.

"He doesn't like me," Greg told her as he resumed digging.

"You aren't exactly friendly to him. And don't say he's a phony asshole."

"I don't trust him."

"So you've said. When can we move in?"

"When we get back."

"It'll be so nice not to live in the dorms," she sighed as she stood up and started digging another hole.

"Yeah," Greg agreed.

"I don't like it," Doug said later that night. He and Reilly sat on the back porch watching the full moon rise.

"Well, I'm not thrilled you're moving to Boston but it is what it is. It's cheaper than living on campus and I will finally have a roommate I can tolerate."

"Marry me when we get back home. We'll just go to the court house. Then you can move to Boston with me."

"No."

"Why not?" he demanded.

"Because that isn't what we planned. I'm going to medical school. If you don't trust me then maybe we shouldn't get married."

"I trust you," he said quickly. "It's House I don't trust."

"Greg is my best friend. That's all. It will be fine." She leaned in and kissed him. Then she rested her head on his shoulder.

"Will you have your own bedroom in this apartment you're sharing with House?" he asked. "Preferably with several locks on the door?"

Reilly laughed. "It's a one bedroom but Greg is letting me have the bedroom. His mom is sending him a pullout couch. I really don't know why you worry about Greg so much. I've known him my whole life and he's never tried anything with me."

Doug kissed the top of her head. "Then he's an idiot. Or blind."

"More like we've known each other so long that we're like brother and sister," she responded.

Doug didn't believe that for a second but he let the matter drop. He'd have control of Reilly soon enough. He could wait.


	11. Chapter 11

1979

Greg and Reilly moved into their new apartment two weeks before the fall term started. Greg and some of his friends moved the meager amount of furniture they had. Reilly's parents sent her bed, new bedding with pillows, and two dressers along with a desk and matching chair. Greg's mother sent the sofa bed, a small black and white tv, a round patio table with two chairs and new towels. They went to the local Goodwill and bought dishes, silverware, several lamps, blankets and bean bag chairs. Then they went to the local grocery store and stocked up on food.

Once all the furniture was in place and the beds made, Reilly cooked their first dinner. She made baked chicken, baked potatoes and fresh green beans. Greg insisted they boil the used dishes and silverware before they used it. So, once dinner was cooked and the table set, Reilly called Greg to the table.

He came into the small kitchen sniffing deeply. "Oh, that smells good," he told her as he sat down. "You need to teach me how to cook something besides cereal and peanut butter sandwiches."

"How about this?" she asked. "You'll be in charge of washing the dishes and I'll do the cooking."

"I can do that," he mumbled around a mouthful of chicken.

"We need to come up with a system for the bathroom and a way to let me know when you've got a girl up here, too."

"Well, our first classes aren't until eleven and I go running in the morning-" he began.

"Wait! You go running in the morning? Why didn't you tell me? I go running every morning, too."

"Then after our morning run, you can have the shower first so long as you don't use up all the hot water," he told her. "And I'll just go wherever the girl happens to live and have sex there. Works out better anyway. Then I don't have to give her the boot in the middle of the night. I can just come home."

"Home," Reilly smiled. "This is our home."

"Oh, jeez. This isn't going to be a thing, is it?"

"No, meanie. I've just never had my own bedroom before. There was always a baby or two in it."

"What's Smug think about this?" he asked.

"Well, he isn't exactly thrilled and he wants me to put locks on my bedroom door to keep you from sneaking into my bed. But, we aren't married yet so I still get to decide all by myself what I do."

"What am I supposed to do when you two are in your room doing the nasty?" he asked.

"We're not. We're waiting until we get married."

Greg started to laugh loudly. Reilly reached across the table and pinched him.

"You're not getting married for six years!" he chortled. "You really think he's going to wait that long?"

"If he truly loves me he will," she said defensively. "Sex isn't everything."

He shook his head and took a huge bite of baked potato. "Sex is everything."

Reilly mumbled something and Greg cupped his hand around his ear. "Say again?"

"I don't like sex," she said clearly and focused on her plate. Pushing a clump of green beans around, she frowned.

"You've only slept with two immature idiots who were only concerned with getting off," he told her. "I just hope Smug knows what he's doing when the time comes."

"He's an excellent kisser."

Greg glanced at her and then finished his dinner. Leaning back in his chair, he looked at her speculatively. "Maybe you like girls?"

"Oh, you'd love that, wouldn't you?"

He nodded eagerly. "Especially if you let me watch."

She reached out to pinch him again but he jumped up and away from her. He slid around her and began to put dishes in the sink. "Hurry up and eat so I can get the dishes done. There's a new blues club I want to go to."

Reilly got up and put her plate in the sink. "I'll go change."

He did the dishes quickly, dried them and put them away. He grabbed the keys and they left. It was nearly two in the morning when they came back. Doug was sitting on the floor outside their apartment. A bouquet of roses lay on the floor beside him. He stood up when he saw them. Reilly rushed forward and kissed him.

"I guess I should have called earlier," he said smoothing back her hair. "Where were you?"

"A blues club. I should have called you but we just decided to go on a whim," she told him. "You want to come in for some coffee?"

He shook his head and bent to pick up the flowers. Handing them out to her, he kissed her again. Greg leaned against the wall and watched them.

"How about dinner tomorrow night?" Doug asked. "I leave for Boston on Sunday."

"I'll be ready at seven," she told him.

He nodded, kissed her again and left. Greg watched him go and then unlocked the door. Reilly went to put her roses in water before putting them on the kitchen table. Greg yawned loudly. She looked up at him.

"Okay, okay," she said. "I get the hint. Just try to keep it down once she gets here. And so much for not bringing any girls here for sex."

"She's special," he grinned.

Reilly snorted and went into her bedroom. She made a face at him and closed the door.

They spent the summer between their junior and senior years in Ireland again. This time Doug didn't come for the whole summer but he did come for two weeks. Greg went to Greece while he was there.

Near the beginning of their final semester at Harvard, they both took the Medical College Admission Test. They would get the results along with applications for the medical schools they chose. They trudged through the snow to their classes, studied, and waited. Doug came to visit every Saturday and Greg always spent the day in the library. He told Reilly he did it to keep his grades up and give them privacy but she knew it was because he couldn't stand Doug. They got part time jobs as lab assistants at the county morgue. They knew it would look good on their medical school applications. They recorded the deceased's name and cause of death. They prepared the bodies for autopsy and bagged any clothes and valuables for the families to collect. They washed and disinfected tools and other equipment. They also cleaned up the morgue each day.

One afternoon a young man's body arrived. Reilly took the paperwork from the firefighters who brought him in and Greg rolled his body into the autopsy room.

"His name is Vince Ballard and cause of death is unknown," she read as she followed Greg. "They said he was found in the park."

Greg grabbed the paperwork from her and looked it over. "He's twenty. The police didn't find any indication that he was attacked. What twenty year old just drops dead in the park?"

Reilly knew it was a rhetorical question and proceeded to remove Vince's clothes. Then she bagged his clothes and personal effects. Greg joined her and stared at him.

"Just let Doctor Brown do the autopsy," she told him referring to the medical examiner. "No solving the death puzzle. Besides, we have four bodies being picked up by four different funeral homes. We should get them ready to go. Doc also wants us to log the evidence he collected from that poor girl who was raped and killed. Vince can wait. She can't. The detectives want evidence as….and you aren't listening to a word I'm saying." She looked at him in exasperation. Picking up the bag with Vince's clothes, watch, necklace and wallet, she carried it over to the evidence bay and logged it in. Then she pulled the four bodies from their refrigerated drawers and got them ready for transport. She prepared the paperwork and had the funeral workers sign it before allowing them to take the bodies. Looking over at Greg, she saw he removed the sheet covering Vince's body and hovered over Doc as he worked asking endless questions. She moved on to the girl. Reilly lifted the sheet covering her and looked at the narrow blade marks covering her chest and abdomen. Bruises covered her face, legs and arms. Reilly pulled on a pair of gloves and gathered up several evidence bags that sat on a small metal table beside the slab the girl rested on. Reilly carefully logged each bag on the form for the police department. As she worked, she realized this girl fought the man who attacked her. When she finished, Reilly carefully covered the body, removed her gloves and tossed them in the bin. She went to the end of the table and looked at the toe tag hanging off the girl's foot. Her name was Melanie Zimmerman and she was twenty-one. Glancing over at Greg to make sure he was still occupied, she covered Melanie's feet and moved back to stand by her head. She made the sign of the cross and then gently put her hand on Melanie's forehead. Softly she recited The Prayer For The Dead.

"In your hands, O Lord, we humbly entrust Melanie. In this life, you embraced her with your tender love. Deliver her now from every evil and bid her eternal rest. The old order has passed away. Welcome her into paradise where there will be no sorrow, no weeping or pain, but fullness of peace and joy with you, the Son and the Holy Spirit forever and ever. Amen."

She did this for all of the people who passed through the morgue when she was there. She no longer attended church but she felt compelled to perform the prayer for as many of them as possible. It was the only secret she kept from Greg. She knew how he felt about religion and religious people. Whether there was actually a God or not, she wasn't sure. However, it made her feel better to recite the prayer.


	12. Chapter 12

1980

After a late class during their Senior year, they stopped at their favorite Chinese restaurant and picked up dinner. When they arrived home, they sat on the couch and ate while watching television. During a commercial, Greg looked over a Reilly.

"I know what I want to do once I get my medical license," he said.

"Diagnose patients?" Reilly asked and took a bite of an egg roll.

"All doctors do that," Greg said.

"I know what you want," she told him. "You want to diagnose the patients other doctors can't. You want to solve medical puzzles. But there's nothing like that. What would a department like that be called? Diagnostics?"

"That's it exactly!" Greg said with excitement. "Get a bunch of docs with different specialties and figure out why someone is sick and dying. We could talk about the symptoms until we figure it out. We'd have to do a lot of different tests until we get to the diagnosis but all doctors do that."

"It sounds fascinating but there's nothing like it out there."

"Well, someone will start it or I will," he told her. He grabbed a wonton and popped it in his mouth.

"Doug is driving over on Friday night," she told him. "We're going to Boston for dinner so I won't get back until pretty late. So, feel free to herd a few girls through here."

"Why are you marrying him?"

Reilly looked at him in astonishment. "How did we get from you banging a couple girls to my engagement to Doug?"

"Why are you marrying him?" he asked again.

"Because I love him."

"Really? Your mom and dad got married three months after they met. My parents were high school sweethearts who got married after they graduated. You got engaged freshman year and you aren't getting married for almost six years. So, I'm asking again. Why are you marrying him?"

Reilly blew out a loud sigh, "You are not going to let this go are you? Jesus, you're like a damn dog with a bone sometimes."

He leaned in close to her and looked into her eyes. "Why are you marrying him?"

"Because he asked me!" Reilly shouted. "Because I was only in two very short relationships before I met him! Because I don't think anyone else will ask me! Because my parents expect me to marry someone and have children!"

She tossed her carton of Lo Mein in his lap and stalked into her bedroom, slamming the door behind her. Greg picked up her Lo Mein and looked at her door. He put the cartons he held on the couch and went into her room. She sat on the edge of her bed staring out the window. He sat down beside her.

"Don't marry him," he said quietly.

"I'm going to," she responded just as softly. "He loves me. He's going to be a successful lawyer and he's so good looking. Plus, he's really nice to me. And he's willing to wait."

"You don't love him."

She shrugged. "I like him. A lot. I'll learn to love him."

"Those are some shitty reasons to marry someone," he scoffed. "And why do you have to get married at all? I'm not going to."

"That's your choice and I respect that. Why can't you respect mine?"

"Because you deserve to be happy."

"I will be. Now, we'll speak no more of this" She sounded eerily like her mother as she said this. "We need to study."

Greg knew not to push her even though he wanted to so he got up and went back to the living room. He came back in a few minutes later with two large manila envelopes.

Reilly looked up from her notes. Her eyes widened when she saw the envelopes.

"Is that the paperwork from our advisor to apply for med schools?" she asked.

He nodded and tossed hers to her. "Let's get them filled out and in the mail!" he asked.

She jumped up from the bed and ran into the kitchen. She carefully placed her envelope on the table and rummaged around until she found two black ink pens. Greg sat at the table with all his paperwork in front of him. He held the paper with the results of his Medical College Admissions Test and stared at it. Reilly sat down and opened her packet. She pulled out her MCAT results.

"I got a five hundred," she told him with a wide smile. "What did you get?"

He looked up at her and smiled. "I got a five twenty-eight."

Reilly squealed and snatched the paper from him. She looked at it and squealed again. Greg covered his ears.

"Stop squealing!" he implored.

"You got a perfect score!" she shouted. "A fucking perfect score!"

"I know," he told her with a slight smile. "I saw the score first."

"You have to call your parents!"

His smile faded and she swallowed. Slowly she sat down and gave his test results back to him.

"He has to be proud of that, Greg. It's a perfect score. He will be proud," she told him.

"No he won't. It's not a Marine score." He shook his head. "Let's get the applications filled out and in the mail."

They sorted out the paperwork. Letters of reference went in one pile. Copies of their MCAT scores went in another pile. Applications went in a third pile. They spent two hours filling the applications out and then stuffing and addressing envelopes. When they finished they pulled on their coats and walked down the street to the mailbox.

They graduated from Harvard in June, 1981, with high honors. They were both accepted to Johns Hopkins and would start med school there in the fall. They continued to work at the county morgue but took two weeks off to go visit Reilly's grandparents in Ireland.

In August, they moved from Cambridge, Massachusetts, to Baltimore, Maryland. They found a small two bedroom apartment close to the school and got settled in two weeks before classes started. They both decided to pursue double specialties. Greg chose infectious medicine and nephrology and Reilly chose infectious medicine and general surgery.

Doug drove down on Friday nights and slept on the pull out couch each weekend. Reilly spent as much time with him as possible but med school kept her busy. Greg could tell Doug resented it but didn't say anything. He just came up with new and interesting ways to keep her from spending time with Doug. Fortunately she was too busy to notice.

One afternoon, Reilly hunted Greg down. He was in one of the labs doing research when she finally found him. He took one look at the stormy expression on her face and sighed.

"I hate that idiot!" she ground out. "He can't do even the simplest math! Why did I get stuck with Phillip Weber as a lab partner? We failed the last assignment because he refused to correct his math! I told him he was wrong and he ignored me. Asshole!"

"Go ask the professor to put you with someone else."

"I did. No one else wants to work with that little weasel."

"Correct his math before you turn in an assignment. Steal the lab work from him if you have to."

"You know what?" she asked through gritted teeth. "I will. Thanks."

Once she left, Greg sat and thought of a way to get Weber back. Finally he smiled. He knew exactly what to do. Reilly walked into her organic chemistry lab class the following week and saw Lola Hogan sitting on her stool next to Phillip Weber. The tall blonde leaned in close to Phillip and stroked his arm while smiling into his eyes. Reilly walked up to the professor. He smiled when he saw her.

"Miss Hogan came to see me this morning and asked to change lab partners," he smiled. "You'll work with Charlie Tate."

Reilly nodded. Last week no one wanted to be partnered with Weber and now the most beautiful girl in class was sitting next to him. Slowly she made her way to the lab station where Charlie Tate sat. He was the most intelligent and hard-working person in her class. As she sat down and pulled out her lab book, she suddenly knew what happened. Somehow Greg convinced Lola to switch. She wasn't sure how but she was grateful. Charlie looked up at her briefly and then turned his attention to the professor who explained the day's lesson.

The rest of their first year in medical school went smoothly. At the end of the last semester, a rumor blazed through campus about Phillip Weber and his teeny tiny dick. When naked photos of him were plastered across campus, Weber reported Lola. An official investigation took place and Lola was expelled. Reilly later found out she didn't want to be a doctor but enrolled because her parents demanded she did. They were both doctors and expected her to follow in their footsteps. Reilly also found out she actually wanted to be a teacher.

On the flight to Ireland that summer, Reilly questioned Greg about how he got Lola to be Weber's lab partner.

He grinned at her. "It was actually pretty easy," he told her. "Lola and my girlfriend at the time were roommates. Lola hated medical school and wants to teach first grade." He shuddered. "Well, when I found out, I knew she was nutty-"

"Wanting to be an elementary school teacher doesn't make her nutty," Reilly interrupted.

"I knew she was nutty," Greg continued as if she hadn't spoken. "I also knew she'd do anything for me." He smiled sweetly at her. "So, I fucked her, then I had a threesome with them, then I had more threesomes-"

"Ugh!" Reilly groaned putting her hands over her ears. "I get it! She wanted to sleep with you and Gretchen. But that isn't reason enough to get her to do it." She removed her hands. "Is it?"

He smiled. "Oh, yeah. Lola likes it both ways. They even let me watch. Anyway, when I told her my plan, she went for it. Von Lieberman thought he hit the sexual jackpot with her."

"You're gross," she laughed. "And Von Lieberman deserved it. Also, I love that you came up with that name for him."

"He's a pissy little dictator. He needs a pissy little dictator name."

"Did you break up with Gretchen?" she asked.

"Not yet," he said as he leaned back and closed her eyes. "It'll depend on her new roommate."

Reilly rolled her eyes and pulled a book out. He went to sleep and she looked over at him. In three years, she and Doug would be married. She and Greg planned to do their residency at Hopkins but she knew the dynamic between them might change. She didn't want it to but Doug really didn't like him and her mother kept reminding her that a wife should take her husband's feelings into account. So, Reilly knew she would see less of Greg once she was married. There was also no guarantee that they would end up working in the same department at the same hospital. At some point, they would have to go their separate ways. However, she knew their bond of friendship was strong enough to survive anything.

They returned from Ireland at the end of July and settled back into their apartment. The second year of medical school was much like the first except Reilly didn't have any classes with Von Lieberman for which she was eternally grateful. Greg went through four girlfriends that year. They went to Ireland again and saw more of Europe. It would be their last trip to stay with her grandparents and they wanted to make the most of it. Before they left, her grandmother told Reilly she would make her wedding dress and veil. Reilly was ecstatic but for Greg it drove home the fact their lives would change once she married. He knew Smug would do his dead level best to keep them apart. He just wished Reilly realized that, too.


	13. Chapter 13

1984

Near the beginning of their third year of med school, Greg decided to test a theory. He complained to Reilly that he didn't think the instructors were treating him fairly. She noticed they seemed to be harder on him and were harsher toward him. When he told her what he planned to do, she begged him not to do it.

He came home one evening and began to pack.

"What are you doing?" Reilly asked as she followed him into his room.

"I've been caught cheating and they put me on academic probation. I can go to med school in Michigan until my probation period is up. If they let me come back," he said stonily as he threw clothes in a suitcase.

"Pack just enough to get you through the probation because you're coming back," she told him. "But, please tell me what happened."

He grabbed another suitcase. "I cheated. I knew they were treating me differently and I was right. I got a D and the guy I switched papers with got an A. Von Leiberman found out and ran squealing like the rat he is."

Reilly bit her lip. He looked over at her. "You can say it," he told her.

She shook her head and pulled him in for a tight hug. He stood stiffly in her embrace until she released him.

"You will be back," she told him. "And things will be better when you do."

"Jesus, Reilly! Stop being such a fucking Pollyanna!" he shouted. "Life isn't always fucking perfect no matter how much you want it to be!"

She jerked back as if he slapped her. Slowly she turned and left the room. A moment later he heard the front door open and close. He continued to throw clothes into the suitcase.

Reilly didn't speak to him again. She stayed out of the apartment except to sleep and didn't tell him goodbye when he left. He knew he'd ruined things between them but he didn't know how to fix it. So, he went to Michigan State and continued his third year of medical school. When he wasn't inserting IVs or checking patients' vital signs, he hung out in the school bookshop. He spotted a girl with dark hair, blue eyes, huge breasts, a narrow waist and curvy hips. After some discreet inquiries, he learned her name was Lisa Cuddy and she was a freshman. She spent a lot of time in the library so Greg started to spend time there.

One night in late January, one of his classmates threw a party. Lisa showed up and Greg walked up to her and handed her a cup of beer.

"I'm House," he told her with a disarming smile.

"I know," she blushed.

"And you're Lisa Cuddy," he said as he backed her up against the wall and put his hands on the wall on either side of her. Her blush deepened and she drained her cup.

"Let's go upstairs," he suggested.

She nodded and let him lead her up to an empty bedroom. He closed the door and began to kiss her. He threaded his fingers through her dark curls as his tongue slid into her mouth. She arched up against him and ran her hands up under his sweater pulling it over his head. Her nails lightly scraped along his skin leaving a trail of fire. He pulled her pink sweater over her head and ran his finger along the lacy top of her red bra. Reaching behind her, he unhooked it and slid it off her shoulders. He cupped her breasts rubbing his thumbs over her rock hard nipples. She tilted back her head and moaned. He leaned in to kiss her again reveling in the feel of her breasts pressing against his chest. They stripped the rest of their clothes off and Greg grabbed a condom from his back pocket. Lisa sat on her heels on the bed and took it from him when he moved beside her. She grasped his cock and rolled the condom on. Then she laid back and spread her legs wide. Greg shook his head and pulled her up. He sat with his back against the wall and pulled her onto his lap. He groaned when she slid down onto his cock. He kissed her again as his fingers found her slick nub. She gasped as he began to rub her. Putting her hands on his shoulders, she started to move up and down on him. She tossed her hair over her shoulders and he leaned forward to take one breast into his mouth, sucking and licking her heated skin. He pressed on her clit and she screamed as an orgasm pounded through her. He smiled, kissed her again and rolled her onto her back. Bracing his weight on his arms, he pounded into her. A few moments later, his eyes rolled back in his head and he shouted her name as an intense orgasm spiraled through him. He fell onto the bed beside her and tried to catch his breath. Once he did, he removed the used condom and tossed it on the floor. He leaned over her and kissed her. The door flew open and one of his friends came in.

"Sorry, man, but the Dean is looking for you!" he said and then closed the door.

Greg looked down at Lisa. "I should go find out what I did wrong now," he said softly.

She nodded and sat up. She watched him dress and then crawled to the end of the bed. He kissed her again and then left.

Greg whistled as he made his way to the Dean's office. He would find out what he wanted then head back to the party and Lisa. He wanted to get to know her better.

The Dean was waiting for him. He told Greg he could return to Hopkins but he would have to repeat his third year of medical school. In the meantime, he could return home until the fall semester at Hopkins started. Greg nodded and left. He went back to his studio apartment, packed his clothes and books, and left. He felt a twinge of guilt about leaving Lisa without telling her why but he had to find a job and a new place to live.


	14. Chapter 14

1985

Greg returned to Baltimore, got a job as a lab tech at the county morgue and moved into another studio apartment. He didn't contact Reilly. He would write to her and see how she felt about him coming back. He sent her a short note and included his new phone number. Two days later she called him and told him to come home. So, he packed again and moved back to the apartment they shared before he was put on academic probation. She hugged him when he came in and helped him unpack. She never spoke about their fight and neither did he.

That summer, Reilly also got a job at the morgue. The two of them fell back into their normal pattern as if nothing happened and he never left. Greg was relieved. He did tell her about Lisa Cuddy and Reilly encouraged him to contact her but he didn't.

"You deserve to be happy," she told as they washed and sterilized instruments in a corner of the morgue.

"I'm fine," he told her.

She shot him a dubious look. He laughed.

"I am," he assured her.

She shook her head and didn't mention it again. It was one of the things he liked most about her. She knew when to leave him alone. He realized he missed that while he was gone.

They arrived home that night to find a large package leaning against the wall beside the front door of their apartment. Reilly looked at the return address and laughed with delight.

"It's from Nana!" she told him. "She sent my dress and veil! Help me get it in!"

He lifted the box while she unlocked the door. Once inside, he put the box on the floor while she got a pair of scissors. Very carefully she slit the tape holding the box closed and then pulled out mounds of packing paper. Greg sat on the couch and watched her pull out a sheer, lace edged silk veil and then a long white gown. Finally, she pulled out an envelope and a pair of white silk slippers.

Reilly opened the envelope and pulled out several pieces of notepaper. She sat on her heels while she read the letter. Then she looked up at Greg.

"She made everything I need," she sighed happily. Carefully, she lifted the dress and held it out. The cap sleeves were encrusted with luminous pearls. More pearls covered the tight fitting, scooped neck bodice. The skirt was full and made of a material Reilly told him was organza. The same lace that edged her veil encircled the bottom of her dress and could be seen under the layers of sheer organza. She carried the gown and veil into her room. When she came back, she reached into the box and pulled out a small, ornately carved wooden chest. Opening it, she pulled out a headpiece made of the same pearls that covered her dress.

"Oh," she sighed. "It's all so beautiful. And Pa made the chest. If I have a daughter she will get all this."

"Let's get the box into your room and order some pizza," he told her as he picked it up and carried it into her room.

She put the chest on her dresser and smiled at him. "I want extra mushrooms, black olives, green peppers and tomatoes on it."

"Blasphemy!"

They laughed and went back out into the living room.

Reilly started her fourth year of medical school and Greg started his third for the second time. They saw each other briefly in the morning and again at night. He knew she was busy with school and trying to plan her wedding. She and Smug were getting married on June 22. She tried to convince Greg to be a groomsman but both he and Doug shot down the idea. Meara came to Baltimore several times to help with the planning. Once Blythe came with her. Greg took his mother out to dinner the night before she left. They didn't discuss John, Greg's probation or anything else that might cause friction or unpleasantness. He learned over the years that his mother hated confrontation and wanted to believe they were a happy, normal family. He knew they weren't and never would be but for her he perpetuated her belief. He didn't lie to her because he couldn't. She was like Reilly in that respect. He could lie to others without compunction but not them. So, he smiled and told her about the doctors he worked with and his job at the morgue. They talked about the wedding. She told him about life at the base. In essence, they talked about everything and nothing just as they always did.

One warm afternoon in late April, Greg met Reilly outside the back entrance to the hospital. She slipped her lab coat off, sat down on a bench and folded it across her lap. He sat down beside her and tilted his face up to the sun.

"Doug's firm is transferring him to Los Angeles in July," she said softly. "My advisor pulled some strings and got me a residency at Cedars Sinai."

Greg blew out a breath. "Well, he did it."

"Greg, don't," she pleaded.

"You're at Johns Hopkins, Reilly. You're supposed to do your residency there. You're taking several steps down for him."

"Cedars is a great hospital."

"It's not Johns Hopkins," he said bitterly. "I knew he'd take you away. I just didn't think it would be across the fucking country."

She grabbed his hand and squeezed it. "You belong to me, Greg House, and I belong to you. Nothing will change that."

He pulled his hand free and stood up. "Smug already did."

Jumping up, her coat fell on the ground and she grabbed his arm. "We will always belong to each other. Not even Doug can change that."

He looked down at her and shook his head. "Maybe," he sighed. "But you'll also belong to him and he doesn't want to share you." He pulled away from her. "I gotta get back. I'll see you at home later."


	15. Chapter 15

1986

Reilly and Doug were married at the Catholic church her parents attended in Virginia. Greg sat beside his mother and watched his best friend pledge her life to an asshole who only wanted a pretty doctor to show off to his clients. Bitterness consumed him as he watched her walk down the aisle with her dress and veil floating around her. He planned to leave after the ceremony but Reilly saw him walking toward his rental car and called out to him. She stood with the bridal party while a photographer took pictures.

"Greg House!" she shouted. "Get over here!"

He stood for a moment looking at her. Her long red-gold curls flowed over her shoulders. The bodice of her dress showed the upper curves of her breasts. She held a small bouquet of red roses. A sudden breeze blew her veil up and and in that moment he felt his heart break. Slowly he walked across the neatly cut lawn toward her. He ignored everyone and focused only on her. Her blue eyes sparkled and she smiled widely as she held out her hand to him.

"You have to take a picture of us," she told the photographer as she pulled Greg close.

"Put your arm around her," the man told him as he lifted his camera.

Greg slipped his arm around her narrow waist and pulled her close to his side. After several minutes, he looked down at her and she looked up at him. He kissed her forehead, released her and walked away. Silence followed him as he crossed the lawn to the parking lot. He didn't know it at the time but it would be twenty years before he saw her again.

House finished his residency at Johns Hopkins. He applied for his medical license and got a job at Mercy Medical Center. That job lasted six months before he was fired for performing a dangerous, unauthorized test on one of his patients. The patient lived but the administrator fired him anyway.

While looking for another job, he attended a medical conference in New Orleans. He sat at the bar in his hotel and stared at the huge antique mirror hanging on the wall in front of him. An obnoxious drunk stood over the jukebox playing Billy Joel's _Leave A Tender Moment Alone_ over and over again. In the reflection of the mirror, he saw the doctor who caught his attention earlier, James Wilson. He was young with brown hair that flopped onto his forehead, thick dark brows and earnest brown eyes. He no longer carried the envelope House knew contained divorce papers. Wilson sat at a table by the jukebox and placed his order. After about fifteen minutes, he got up and spoke to the drunk swaying to Billy Joel's soulful vocals.

"Fuck no!" the drunk shouted and pushed Wilson back.

House watched with amusement as Wilson tried to reason with the drunk. The drunk cursed at him and as a server walked past with a bottle of whiskey and three glasses balanced on her tray, Wilson grabbed the bottle and threw it. The drunk swayed to one side and the bottle shattered the antique mirror. Then all hell broke loose.

When Wilson along with several other patrons were arrested for fighting, House left the bar and headed up to his hotel room. He got his checkbook from the small safe in his room and went to bail Wilson out of jail. He wouldn't tell Wilson why he did it and the two of them became friends.

House moved back to Boston and got a job at Massachusetts General. He lasted six months there before getting fired for calling the administrator an arrogant asshole in front of a patient.

A couple months later, Wilson called him and told him about an opening at Princeton Plainsboro Teaching Hospital in Princeton, New Jersey. He told House he put in a good word with the Dean of Medicine, Lisa Cuddy. When House walked into her office, she looked up at him in surprise but recovered quickly. She agreed to hire him at a reduced salary. He took the job because, as Cuddy told him, no one else would hire him.

Each year, Reilly sent him gifts for his birthday and Christmas. At first, he sent her cards back. Then he stopped. In 1991, she sent him a picture of her first child. Sarah Elizabeth Ashley looked just like her mother. Then in 1993, she sent him a picture of Sarah with her baby sister, Jennifer Marie Ashley. Both times, he sent each girl a platinum locket engraved with their initials. Both times, Reilly sent him a thank you note.

One warm summer afternoon, House and Wilson went to a paintball tournament. It was doctors against lawyers. House was creeping along in the underbrush when he felt a paintball hit him squarely in the back.

"Fuck!" he shouted and stood up. He spun around and saw one of the lawyers. She removed her helmet and long dark hair spilled over her shoulders. He stared at her in awe. She was gorgeous.

"You always have to watch your back," she laughed.

He narrowed his eyes and smiled back. Lifting his gun, he shot her squarely in the chest.

"And you should never let your guard down," he grinned.

"Shit!" she said looking down at the bright blue paint on her chest plate. "You're an asshole."

"No, I'm Greg," he told her. "Have dinner with me."

"No," she told him and turned to walk away. He jumped and ran to keep up with her.

"Come on," he said as he fell into step beside her. "You shot me first. I know this great Italian restaurant. I'll pay."

She looked over at him. "I'll let you buy me a burger," she said. "At the concession stand."

They turned in their equipment and went to the concession stand set up at the edge of the woods. House ordered two burgers and then looked at her questioningly.

"I want everything, including extra pickles on mine and onion rings and root beer," she said to the young man taking orders.

House ordered the same minus the pickles. They moved to the side so the other people in line could place their orders.

"You never told me your name," House said as he watched her.

"No, I didn't," she replied.

"You shot me first!" he exclaimed.

She shook her head and a smile tilted the corners of her full lips. "Stacy," she finally answered. Another young man placed their food on the counter in front of them. They took it and went to one of the empty picnic tables.

"Just to be clear," Stacy told him as she picked up her burger. "You're still an asshole and I do not like you. Once I eat, I'm leaving and I'll never have to see you again.

House just smiled and bit into his burger. A week later Stacy moved in with him.


	16. Chapter 16

1999

House was playing golf with Stacy when a debilitating pain shot through his right thigh. He fell to the ground, screaming in pain. She called an ambulance and he was taken to PPTH. An ER doctor prescribed aspirin, heat compresses and bed rest. Three days later he was admitted to the hospital because the pain increased. Cuddy came into his hospital room to tell him he had an infarction in the main artery in his thigh. She wanted to amputate but he refused. In the end, while he was in a medically induced coma, Stacy gave the doctors permission to remove the dead muscle from his thigh. He awoke with a chunk of his thigh missing and constant, overwhelming pain. When House was finally released from the hospital, Wilson came to see him. House lay on the couch with his new cane propped beside him and a bottle of Vicodin on the coffee table.

"I wish Stacy called me when this happened," Wilson told him as he sat down in a chair.

"You were on your honeymoon," House reminded him. "Somehow I don't think your wife would be too happy if you cut that short for me. She already hates me."

"Yeah, you're probably right. So, Stacy signed off on that procedure."

House reached for the Vicodin, popped the top off and dry swallowed two of them. "Yep," he responded bitterly.

"I saw Cuddy," Wilson responded sensing that was a dangerous topic, "She said she approved your request to start a Diagnostics department."

"Yeah," House said and shifted on the couch trying to get comfortable. "I get to hire three doctors and two nurses."

"That's great."

"Yeah, I can go back to work next month. Wanna help me hire my team?" House asked him.

"Sure."

House limped out of the elevator, leaning heavily on his cane and slowly made his way to his new office. Cuddy had several offices remodeled for the new department. He passed an exam room, a large glass walled conference room and stopped in front of his new glassed in office. He looked at his name on the glass door and then pushed it open. All the furniture from his old office was set up. His framed posters leaned against the walls. His sank down in his Eames lounger and lifted his leg onto the footstool. He swung his other leg up and leaned back. He was on the verge of sleep when Wilson walked in carrying a pile of resumes. House jerked slightly and rubbed his hand over his face. He looked at Wilson.

"I need more Vicodin," he said. "Write me a script."

"Well, good morning to you, too," Wilson told him. "And I can't write you a script because I'm not your doctor."

House very carefully got up and moved to sit behind his desk. "I switched doctors. You're my doctor. Now write me the script."

"I can't be your doctor," Wilson started to protest.

"Just write me the fucking script!" House shouted. "I'm in pain and I'm out of my fucking Vicodin!"

Wilson sat down in one of the chairs in front of House's desk. Pulling out his prescription pad, he wrote out the prescription. He tore it off and held it out to House.

"Go get it filled for me," House said picking up the first application.

"Is this going to be a problem?" Wilson asked with concern.

"Only if you don't get my Vicodin."

Wilson sighed loudly and left. House flipped through the resumes until he found the three doctors he wanted. Cuddy would transfer two nurses to his department. Wilson walked in with a bottle of pills and tossed them to House. House caught the bottle in his right hand without looking up. He popped the top off and dry swallowed two of the pills. Then he shoved the three resumes across the desk to Wilson.

"I want these three," House told him. "What do you think?"

Wilson carefully read over the resumes. The three doctors House chose just finished their residencies. Eric Foreman was a neurologist. Robert Chase was an intensivist and surgeon. Allison Cameron was an immunologist.

"They don't have any experience," Wilson commented.

"Exactly. I won't have to beat any bad habits out of them."

"Then I guess they're perfect," Wilson told him as he held the resumes out to him.

House waved his hand dismissively. "Call them and tell them to be here next Monday at eight."

"In case it escaped your notice," Wilson replied. "I don't work for you. Get one of your nurses to call them or better yet, call them yourself."

House leaned back in his chair and folded his hands over his stomach. "You always were a selfish bitch."

Wilson stood and tossed the resumes on House's desk. "Yes, well, at least I'm not your bitch." He turned and walked to the door.

"Lunch at one," House called out. "You're buying."

Wilson waved a hand over his head and continued out.

House leaned forward and pulled the resumes forward. He flipped the first one open and called Doctor Allison Cameron.

Over the next six months, House trained Cameron, Chase and Foreman. They only took one case at a time. He and Cuddy butted heads often about everything he did. When he realized Cameron had a crush on him, he got her to cover his clinic hours. He took great delight in making the three of them do things the two nurses should do. Eventually, Cuddy assigned the nurses to other departments. He worked long hours and began to ignore Stacy. One night he came home to find her sitting on the couch waiting for him.

"Call Reilly," she said when he walked in.

House had told her all about Reilly a year into their relationship. Stacy found a picture of them in the back of his sock drawer.

"No," he responded tersely. He limped down the hall to the bathroom. Stacy followed him and leaned against the doorjamb.

"Call her," Stacy repeated. "If anyone can help you, she can."

"I don't need help," he ground out. "I need my thigh muscle. I need the pain to stop."

"If you don't get help from someone, I'm leaving. I've been offered a job at a firm in Short Hills."

He shrugged, flushed the toilet and limped over to the sink to wash his hands.

"Do you even care?" she asked softly.

House gripped the edge of the sink. "Did you care when you ordered that hack to cut my leg apart and leave me barely able to walk and in so much pain I can barely stand it?"

"You're never going to forgive me for that, are you?" she asked in a quavering voice.

He turned to face her. "Would you?"

"If you did it to save my life, yes."

"Well that's really easy to say since you're not the one dealing with it all. So, stay or don't stay. I don't care any more."

She began to sob as he walked past her into the bedroom and slammed the door.

Stacy looked at the closed door and walked back out to the living room. She picked up the phone and called Wilson.

When he arrived, Stacy was sitting on the step outside the apartment smoking a cigarette. He got out of his car and walked across the sidewalk. Putting his hands on his hips, he looked down at her.

"What did he do now?" he asked.

She looked up at him with red rimmed eyes. Wilson sighed and sat down beside her.

"Did he ever tell you about Reilly?" she asked as she blew out a plume of smoke and then stubbed her cigarette out.

"No. Who is he?"

" _She_ grew up with Greg. They were inseparable for twenty-six years. Their fathers were in the same Marine squadron and their mothers are best friends. They went to Langston Prep, Harvard and Hopkins together. She sends him gifts every year for his birthday and Christmas. He never responds."

She pulled a small picture out of her pocket and gave it to Wilson. Wilson looked down at it. House stood next to a beautiful redhead in a wedding gown. They looked at each other with adoration.

"House was married?" he asked in shock.

"No, that was taken on her wedding day. She lives in Los Angeles with her husband and two daughters. James, he won't call her. He made his mother and Reilly's family promise not to tell Reilly what happened to him. I think she can help him. Blythe told me that he changed after Reilly left. When she was with him, she could, well, control him. Apparently, she understood him and never judged him. She accepted him and Blythe said Reilly told me Greg belongs to her and she belongs to him, whatever that means. I just really think she can help him."

"And you want to call her," Wilson said.

Stacy nodded.

"Don't," Wilson sighed. "You have to respect his wishes in this."

"Unlike I did with his leg?" she snapped.

"Yes. He loves you but I don't think he trusts you anymore. I know it sounds harsh but I'm afraid it's true."

Stacy began to cry and Wilson put his arm around her.

"Then I'm leaving," she sobbed.

A week later, she moved out.


	17. Chapter 17

**A/N: I get the feeling November may have not been the best time to post this. Either that or it just really sucks. :\**

2004

Doctor Eric Foreman began to grow frustrated with House, his endless mocking and refusal to follow hospital procedures. Things came to a head while they were treating renowned jazz trumpeter, John Henry Giles. When House disregarded John Henry Giles' Do Not Resuscitate directive, Foreman told Chase and Cameron he wanted to resign. Giles' doctor was Marty Hamilton. Foreman did his residency with Hamilton and respected him immensely. When Hamilton offered him a job in Los Angeles, Foreman resigned and took the job. House saved Giles and relieved the swelling on his spine allowing him to walk again. Though Hamilton's diagnosis of ALS was wrong, Foreman still left.

House sat at his desk reading a medical journal. Cameron entered and placed several resumes in front of him.

"These were the best," she told him. "Just like you wanted."

"Got it," House said dismissively.

Cameron turned and left. House put down the journal and flipped through the resumes. His breath left him when he looked at the last one. Reilly McGrath. All her qualifications were listed along with a New Jersey address. She hadn't worked for fourteen years. House stared at her resume for a long time, then slowly reached out and picked up the phone. She answered after the third ring.

"McGrath residence," she said.

"Reilly."

He heard her gasp. "Greg?"

"Yeah. I got your resume. When can you start?" he asked.

"Monday," she said. "How are you?"

"Be here at eight," he said and hung up. He put his head in his hands. She was coming back and she would see his cane. She would learn about his leg. She would see how much he changed and that terrified him.

Monday morning Reilly dropped her daughters off at school and then drove to Princeton Plainsboro Teaching Hospital. She parked in the visitor's parking lot and walked into the main lobby. It was bright and orange. She looked to her right and saw the entrance to the clinic. A representative from Human Resources called her on Friday and told her to report there first. She crossed the lobby and entered the elevator. She walked down a long hallway to the HR department where she filled out endless amounts of paperwork, got her picture taken for her ID badge, got her radiation monitoring badge, a lab coat and finally her ID badge. She was then given a tour of the hospital and assigned a locker. Her tour guide left her on the fourth floor and wished her luck. Reilly smiled and walked down the hallway until she saw the door to Greg's office. The room was dark but the conference room next to it wasn't so she went in there. There was a white board propped up on an easel. A small kitchenette was in one corner and a desk with a computer sat in another. Reilly looked at the books on the bookshelf next to the desk.

"Good morning."

Reilly turned to see a very beautiful young woman with long silky brown hair, blue-green eyes and a sweet smile. She hung up her bag and put on her lab coat.

"I'm Allison Cameron," she said crossing over to where Reilly stood.

"Reilly McGrath. It's nice to meet you," Reilly said taking Allison's hand and shaking it.

"Welcome to Diagnostics," Allison said with a smile. "Doctor Chase will be here shortly. Doctor House usually arrives about ten."

"It's just the four of us?" Reilly asked her as they moved to sit at the long glass-topped table.

Allison nodded. A young man with thick blonde hair and green eyes entered. He smiled when he saw Reilly.

"Morning," he said. He was Australian and had an easy going smile. "I'm Chase. I see you've met Cameron."

"Yes." Reilly was confused. "Um, you call each other by your last names?"

"Yeah," Allison told her. "It's a habit we picked up from House."

Reilly nodded. "What do you usually do while you wait for him to arrive?"

Chase took out a paper and opened it to the crossword puzzle. "Pretty much anything we want unless we have a patient. Can you make coffee? Foreman did it but he's gone and Cameron can't make a decent cup to save her life."

"Neither can you." Cameron shot back.

"I can make coffee," she assured them. She got up and walked over to the coffee maker. Within minutes the smell of freshly brewed coffee filled the conference room.

"There are snacks in the cabinets," Cameron told her. "If you eat all the animal crackers you have to replace them. They're House's favorite."

Reilly suppressed a grin. So, he still loved animal crackers. He used to eat them all and then she carried the box around like a purse.

"I'm going down to the cafeteria," she said. "Would either of you like anything?"

"I'll take a bagel with cream cheese and tomatoes if you're buying," Chase told her with a cheeky grin.

"I'll go with you," Cameron said.

When they returned from the cafeteria with food, another doctor sat at the conference table talking to Chase. He had neatly combed dark hair, thick eyebrows and warm brown eyes that widened when she walked in with Cameron. Reilly looked at him and smiled.

"Wilson," Chase said. "This is Reilly McGrath, Foreman's replacement. McGrath this is Doctor Wilson. He's the head of Oncology and House's best friend."

Wilson looked at her with sympathy when Chase said that. He stood and walked up to Reilly.

"It's nice to meet you," he said and the word _finally_ hung unspoken in the air between them. Reilly looked at him. They were nearly the same height so she could look him in the eyes. He looked like a good man. Reilly was glad Greg had Wilson in his life.

"Nice to meet you, too." she said. She smiled at him. "Have you had breakfast?" she asked.

"Don't feed him. He's like a stray cat. Feed him and he'll never leave."

Reilly slowly turned to face Greg. He had a scruffy beard, his hair had some grey in it and he looked tired. He leaned heavily on a cane.

"You fed the kitten in Portugal," she told him. "It left."

"Just like you did," he commented as he limped into the room and threw his backpack into his office.

"Unlike the kitten, I came back," she told him.

"I see you're using your maiden name," he said looking at her from beneath lowered brows. "I bet Smug loves that."

She shrugged. She knew the others were watching them closely. She could feel the shock and curiosity radiating off Chase and Cameron.

"I changed it back after the divorce," she told him looking at him steadily.

"How'd you manage that? Catholics don't get divorced."

"I did."

"Why?"

"He cheated on me."

"Did you grow to love him?" he asked with a slight sneer in his voice.

She laughed ruefully. "No."

"Told you not to marry him. I love being right."

"Glad to see that hasn't changed. What happened to your leg?"

"Infarction. You're still wearing the necklace I gave you when we graduated."

She touched the caduceus hanging on its thin silver chain around her neck. "I've never taken it off."

House nodded and limped into his office. He sank down in his Eames chair and lifted his legs up on the foot stool. Reilly followed and sat down next to his feet.

"Why didn't you tell me about your leg?" she asked.

He shrugged. "There wasn't anything you could do about it." He looked away. "How about getting me some coffee and then finding us a patient."

Reilly stood up and looked down at him. "You still belong to me, Greg," she whispered. "And I belong to you." She walked back into the conference room, got a red mug, filled it with coffee and plenty of sugar and carried it back to him. Once he took it, she walked out of his office toward the elevator. Cameron appeared at the door.

"You know her." It wasn't a question.

"Good guess," he answered. "What gave it away?"

"You've known her a long time."

House sipped his coffee and finally she went back into the conference room. Wilson walked in and turned one of the chairs in front of House's desk around. He sat down and looked at House.

"So, that's Reilly," he said as he leaned back in the chair. "She's gorgeous."

"You're married and not her type," House told him crossly.

Wilson began to laugh. "She owns your ass!" he crowed. "She knows all your little secrets."

"Don't you have some dying people to hover over?"

Wilson got up. "This is going to be interesting."

House rolled his eyes.


	18. Chapter 18

2005

The next week, House and Cameron entered the conference room. Reilly sat reading a medical journal and Chase was eating breakfast. Both looked up at him.

"Cameron decided to take a referral from one of the thousands of idiot doctors who try to send us their cast offs," he told them as he tossed patient files on the table.

Reilly pulled one over and flipped it open. "A ten year old had a heart attack?" she asked in surprise.

House tossed his backpack in his office and moved to the whiteboard. "Cool, huh?"

"It says here she's morbidly obese," Chase said as he closed the file and pushed it away. "If I was that young and that fat, I'd be tempted to knock back a bottle of pills."

"No," Cameron told him. "It's not a drug overdose. Three CKMBs were positive and the EKG shows classic signs of elevation. It was a heart attack."

"She's been experiencing fatigue, muscle pain and difficulty breathing for over a year now," Reilly told him.

"All classic symptoms of depression and obesity," Chase commented.

Reilly looked up at him and House smiled. He recognized that look.

"Get ready for it," he whispered to Cameron.

"I take it you'd give her an antidepressant and send her on her way," Reilly said evenly.

"That and a copy of a diet and exercise routine," he said with a shrug.

"Really?"

"Yep."

"Well, it's a good thing for Jessica you aren't in charge. Because I imagine her mother, who told all the other doctors that Jessica watches what she eats and exercises already, would sue your sorry ass and the hospital for negligence. Stop letting your petty prejudices cloud your medical judgement, boyo." She looked over at House who grinned widely at her. "It could be something genetic or a tumor. And stop grinning like that."

House wrote the words genetic and tumor on the whiteboard. "Just glad to see you can still put someone in his place," he commented.

"What about Metabolic X Syndrome?" Cameron asked.

"Insulin resistance?" Chase asked skeptically.

"I don't think so. I think we should check for tumors. She could have one on her thyroid or pituitary," Reilly said. "I'm going to go get some more information from her mom."

"Aw, jeez, Reilly," House groaned rolling his head back. "We don't talk to the patient or the patient's family. Can you guess why?"

"I know you think everybody lies but I want to talk to her mom again," Reilly persisted. She stood up and walked past House. "So I'm going to."

"I can fire you, you know," he told her.

She looked at him over her shoulder and smiled sweetly. "But you're not going to."

Once she left, House went into his office and sat at his desk. Picking up his oversized grey and red tennis ball, he began to rub it against his forehead. Cameron came in and sat down.

"I'm not telling you anything about her if that's why you're in here," he muttered.

"No," she told him. "I looked over Jessica's file and I think McGrath-"

"Her name is Reilly or Doctor McGrath," he cut in sharply. "She doesn't like being called by her last name. I figured she told you two that."

"Reilly may be correct," Cameron continued. "She's a good doctor."

"May?" House asked. "She may be correct?" Sarcasm dripped off each word.

Reilly popped her head in the door. "Doctor Cameron? Would you come with me to talk to Jessica?"

Cameron looked at House with questioning eyes. He waved his hand and she got up.

They walked in silence to Jessica's room. Reilly smiled at her. "I'm Doctor McGrath but you can call me Reilly. And this is Doctor Cameron. May we talk to you?"

Jessica looked from one to the other. "Sure," she said hesitantly. "I guess that would be okay."

Reilly pulled a stool up and sat down next to Jessica's bed. Cameron came to stand beside her. She looked out the glass walls and saw House slip behind a column at the nurse's station. He looked around at her and widened his eyes. Cameron turned her attention back to Reilly.

"-and if you've been taking anything, we really need to know," she finished.

Jessica swallowed. "You'll tell my mom."

"Nope," Reilly told her. "You're our patient. We won't tell her anything unless it's something medical."

Tears gathered in Jessica's eyes. "I stole some diet pills and took them. But they didn't work. I'm sorry I didn't tell you sooner. Is that why I'm sick?"

"No," Reilly assured her reaching out to smooth her hair. "I'm glad you told me, though. Now we can cross that off our list."

"You won't tell my mom?"

"No, not me."

Jessica narrowed her eyes. "Is that why she's here? So she can tell my mom?"

"No, Jessica," Cameron assured her.

"You're lying bitches!" she screamed as she began to thrash around in the bed and tried to pull the heart monitor leads off.

"Lorazepam," Reilly said calmly to Cameron. "Jessica. Look at me. Now!"

Jessica turned to look at her, reaching out to grab Reilly's throat as Cameron inserted the needle into her other arm. Her hand fell to the bed, her eyes fluttered and then closed.

"Psychotic outburst," Reilly commented. "Doctor House, we need you in here!"

House came out from his hiding place and limped into the room leaning heavily on his cane. "You haven't changed," he commented. "I never could sneak up on you."

"She was taking diet pills and I suppose you saw the outburst," Reilly said as she got up and smoothed her dark grey skirt.

"I don't do full body scans," he told her defiantly.

"Did I say anything about a full body scan?"

"Well, then what? An MRI? A CT scan?"

"Both. Then we can do an image fusion. I think we should start with her head."

He looked at her and then nodded. "Cameron, you and Chase do the tests. Reilly, you can get her mom's permission."

Once Reilly got the mother's permission, House called her into his office. She walked in and sat down in his Eames lounger and put her feet up. House sat at his desk tossing a ball in the air. He tossed it to her, she caught and then tossed it back. They began to throw the ball back and forth to each other..

"Tell me what you think it is," he said.

"Cushing's. Her mom is tall and so is her dad. Jessica is short. Combine that with the other symptoms and you get Cushing's."

"Yeah, but her mom is heavy, too."

Reilly caught the ball and held it. She narrowed her eyes and shot him a look of anger. "No she isn't. She's a normal sized woman. She's built like Mom. Are you saying Mom's fat?"

"There's nothing I can say that won't piss you off more, is there?"

"No. This stupid society we live in forces an unnatural ideal on women. I hate it."

"Yet, you're thin," he commented and then ducked when she threw the ball at his head.

"I've started running again," she told him. "And I lost a lot of weight after the divorce."

"Are you saying you got fat?" he teased.

"You're a jerk. I had kids and then had fibroids. I had a hysterectomy and gained some weight."

"Smug is an idiot."

"Yes he is."

"Who did he cheat with?" he asked her as he turned his chair around and picked up the ball.

"Who didn't he cheat with is a better question," she responded. She rolled her eyes. "He cheated even before we got married."

Cameron walked in with Chase on her heels. "She has a tumor on her pituitary gland. It's small but she's got Cushing's."

Reilly smiled broadly.

House rolled his eyes. "Get her scheduled for surgery," he said to Cameron. He pointed at Reilly. "You go remove the tumor."

"Aye, boss!" she laughed as she jumped up.


	19. Chapter 19

2005

One night, they were all working late. Their patient was a thirty-nine year old woman who was twenty-eight weeks pregnant. They were trying to determine why she collapsed.

House stared at the list of symptoms on the whiteboard. Cameron was with Wilson while he did an x-ray of the patient.

"Excuse me," a woman said. House turned to look at her. She was in her mid-fifties and tiny with a cloud of silver curls. Two girls who could only be Reilly's daughters stood in front of her. They both had auburn hair, green eyes and freckles. He pointed at Reilly.

"Mrs. Calloway, I'm so sorry. I lost track of the time," Reilly said as she stood up.

"I have to get home, Doctor McGrath," Mrs. Calloway told her. "You aren't answering your phone."

"Again, I'm so sorry. Leave the girls with me and thank you," Reilly told her.

Mrs. Calloway nodded and left. Sarah and Jennifer stood looking at their mother.

"Go home," House said. "All of you."

"Are you staying?" Reilly asked.

He shrugged.

Cameron walked in. House took one look at her face and sighed. "What did Wilson find?" he asked.

"She has small cell lung cancer," Cameron told them solemnly. "It's inoperable."

"Schedule her for a C-section first thing," he said and turned back to the whiteboard. "There's gotta be a clinical trial for small cell lung cancer starting soon. God knows we run enough trials around this place. Where is Wilson?"

"He's telling the patient," Cameron told him. "She's not going to agree to a C-section. Her husband practically had to force her to get the x-ray. She keeps saying she doesn't want to lose this baby."

"This baby," he whispered. "Reilly!"

"I'm still here so there's no need to shout," she told him. "Allison, will you keep an eye on Sarah while Jenny and I go with Doctor House to talk to Naomi?"

"Mom," Sarah whined. "I'm almost fourteen not three."

Reilly leveled a look at her. Sarah sighed loudly and flopped down in a chair.

House grabbed his cane and started off toward Naomi's room. Reilly and Jenny had to practically run to keep up with him.

Naomi and her husband were talking when they walked in.

Reilly put her hand on House's chest to stop him from entering the room.

"I'm going to talk to her but you have to promise to abide by whatever decision she makes," she told him softly.

"No" he told her. "She's lying to us."

"So what? Ultimately, it's her body and her choice." She led Jenny into the room and smiled at Naomi and her husband, Sean.

"I'm not having the C-section, Doctor McGrath," Naomi told her firmly.

"That's your choice but I'd like to share something with you," Reilly told her. "When I was twenty-six weeks pregnant with Jenny here, I was involved in a car accident that left me in a coma. My ex-husband let the doctors perform a C-section. It was basically me or her. She weighed about a pound when she was born. She's almost twelve now. She's smart, healthy and completely within the norms for a child her age. I just wanted you to know. I think you should have all the facts."

"Do you really think our son would survive?" Sean asked.

"The odds are in his favor but this is Naomi's decision," she told him. She looked at Naomi. "We will abide by whatever you decide."

"How long was she in the hospital?" Naomi asked.

"About six months."

"Would I be able to see him and hold him?"

"You'd be able to see him and hold his hand until he's out of the incubator."

"Doctor Wilson said my survival rate isn't that great," Naomi told her.

"I've found each patient is different. You'd have to undergo the treatment and see how you do," Reilly replied.

Naomi looked at Sean. "I'll do it."

Sean began to cry and laid his head on her chest. Reilly and Jenny quietly left the room.

House grinned at her as they began to walk away. "That story was fantastic! And taking the kid in really sold it."

Reilly released a long, slow breath. She stared at a spot on the wall in front of them. "Jenny, would you please go back to the office and wait with your sister?"

Jenny looked from her mother to House and nodded. Once she was gone, Reilly grabbed House by his shirt and drug him down the hall to the stairwell.

"Cripple!" he protested.

Once they were in the stairwell, she turned on him. "I did not make that story up to get her to do what you want. That really happened. Doug did that so Jenny would survive. He didn't care about my survival. I kept flatlining. I wanted her to see that her son could survive since Jenny did. If she decided she didn't want the C-section and treatment, we would respect her decision. I would never lie to a patient and I can't even begin to describe how much it hurts me that you think I would. I am appalled by how much you've changed, Greg. I know your leg hurts and you're unhappy but you're so different."

"I didn't know."

"Of course you didn't! You never wrote to me or called me or returned my calls! Even now, you don't talk to me about anything but the patients. You have to stop punishing me for getting married and leaving." She walked past him and pulled open the door to the stairwell. He leaned back against the wall and looked down at his cane. He didn't know how long he stood there until Cameron came to find him.

"Reilly said you were here," she told him. "Naomi is having her C-section in two hours and will start her chemo and radiation later tomorrow."

"Do you want to have dinner with me?" he asked looking up at her.

She blinked several times. "Sure."

"Next Friday night? I'll make reservations for Cafe Spilletto."

She smiled and her eyes lit up. "That sounds wonderful." She turned and started to open the door. "Why are you asking me? You said you didn't like me."

"Everybody lies," he told her.


	20. Chapter 20

2005

House and Cameron's dinner date led to more dates which made Reilly smile.

"She's good for you," she told him one afternoon as they stood in the lobby testing patients for meningitis. Hundreds of people stood in long lines. One of the judges at a diving competition collapsed and was diagnosed with a particularly virulent strain of the disease.

"She likes me," he replied. He looked at the strip he pulled out of the woman's mouth in front of him. He grabbed a small plastic cup with two pills in it and handed her a blue slip of paper. "Take these and show the blue form to security to get out of this zoo."

Reilly handed a yellow strip to the man in front of her. "Take this and go upstairs to the second floor."

"Oh, God!" he gasped. "I'm going to die!"

"No, you're going to the second floor," Reilly told him. "Go."

"My leg is beginning to hurt," House told her. "I need to take a break."

Reilly nodded. "I can do both lines. Go rest your leg."

She moved to stand between the two lines and picked up two disposable thermometers. He turned and pushed his way through the people milling around. He saw Cuddy and increased his pace to the elevator. She ran up to him.

"Where do you think you're going?" she asked as she trotted along beside him.

"My leg hurts. I have a note," he told her as he pushed the button on the elevator with the end of his cane.

"We have almost eight hundred patients to clear," she snapped. "Get back to work."

"Reilly's covering for me. I'm going upstairs to rest my leg."

He pushed his way into the elevator and she slipped in behind him just as the doors closed. When they arrived on the fourth floor, she followed him out.

"I heard a rumor that you're dating Cameron. I really hope it isn't true," she told him.

He walked into his office and sat down in his lounger. He sighed as he put his feet up. Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out his Vicodin and popped two in his mouth.

"Look, I know you've been carrying a huge torch for me since I slipped you the long hard one all those years ago, but you gotta move on. Chase is available."

"I am not carrying a torch for you," she began and stopped when he began sniffing the air. "What?!"

"The smoke from your burning pants is pretty strong." He looked at her tight skirt. "Or in your case, skirt."

"You cannot date her. She works for you."

"Then transfer her," he said.

"No."

"Jealousy is a very unattractive quality on you."

"I am not jealous. But you are her supervisor. You're opening us up to a massive lawsuit."

House scoffed. "No, I'm not. Cameron would never file a sexual harassment claim against me."

"When you dump her she could," Cuddy snapped.

"Have you met Cameron?" he asked. "She's incredibly ethical and professional. If we broke up, she'd be upset but she wouldn't let it interfere with our working relationship. Just like she isn't letting our personal relationship interfere now. So, I have to wonder. Who tattled? Wilson? Maybe during one of your little gabfests about me?"

"If this causes even the tiniest problem, you're both fired," she told him.

"Is that it? Cause there's about eight hundred people downstairs waiting to get cleared."

Chase appeared in the doorway. "Need you," he said to House. "Got a patient. Twelve year old female with fever, rash and neck pains-"

"Wow!" House exclaimed. "Sounds like she has meningitis."

"Not meningitis. Her head hurts when she moves it from side to side not up and down She's had the rash for a week now. If it was meningitis, she'd be dead."

"Gather the crew," House told him.

"Stop!" Cuddy ordered. "Give her some cream for the rash and some acetaminophen for the fever and neck pain. Then discharge her and get back to work."

Chase looked from House to Cuddy and back again. House groaned as he got up. He loomed over Cuddy.

"You know that suing thing you mentioned earlier? Do parents of little girls do that when their kid dies?" he asked. He shrugged. "Just curious."

"You have two hours," Cuddy told him and then stalked out of the room.

House looked at Chase and made a shooing motion. "You heard the boss. We've got two hours. Go!"

Four hours later the team was gathered in the conference room and House was pacing.

"We fixed the bleed in her brain but she's still sick," Cameron said.

"We're missing something," Reilly said. "She's twelve but she travels all over the country without her parents. Also, the only visitors are the girls from her team and the coach. She's cute and smart but none of the boys have been in to check on her."

"Maybe they're just not interested," Chase said. "The youngest guy on the team is sixteen."

"Or they're avoiding her," House and Reilly said in unison. They exchanged a smile.

"Check her blood again for cell fragments," House told her.

She nodded and left. When she returned she looked grim.

"Her blood cells look like they've been shredded. The rash is purpura," she told them.

"Thrombocytopenic purpura?" Chase asked incredulously. "There's no E. Coli in her system and she isn't menopausal so no estrogen."

"There is another cause," Reilly told him.

"She's twelve!" Cameron exclaimed.

House looked at Reilly. "Go tell her and then perform the abortion."

Reilly looked away.

"If your religious beliefs-" he began.

"Shut up! I'll do it, damn your eyes! I just need a minute."

"Our little mermaid doesn't have time for you to get your shit together. Go now," he ordered.

She turned sharply and stomped out of the room.

"What was the purpose of that?" Cameron asked. "Chase or I could do it. Why are you treating her that way?"

House didn't answer. He leaned heavily on his cane and looked down at the floor.

Chase got up and walked out.

"What did she do that was so horrible that you feel the need to punish her?" Cameron asked when they were alone.

"She left me," House said softly.

"But you two weren't dating."

"You wouldn't understand."

"Try me," she told him. Getting up, she crossed over to him and put her hand on his chest.

He shook his head. "We were inseparable for nearly twenty-six years. She kept me sane; she saved me. Then she got married and moved to Los Angeles. I thought I'd have her forever."

"She's back now. Give her another chance. She obviously knows you better than anyone."

He leaned his forehead against hers. "I'll try."


	21. Chapter 21

2005

Reilly was filling out charts at the desk in the clinic when House walked up to her.

"Cuddy's making me teach a class in Diagnostics," he whined.

"Poor you," she said without looking up.

"Come with me," he begged. "It'll be less boring if you're there."

"Only if you and Allison come for dinner on Friday night."

"Deal."

She closed the patient files, stacked them neatly and they turned to leave.

"Greg."

He stiffened and Reilly turned to look at the woman who spoke.

"Reilly?" a beautiful, statuesque brunette asked in surprise.

Reilly stared at her, "Do I know you?"

"No. I'm Stacy Warner. Greg and I lived together for five years. I saw the Christmas cards."

"Oh," Reilly responded with a quick glance at House. "It's nice to meet you."

"He didn't tell you about me, did he?" Stacy asked.

Reilly looked down. "No," she said softly. "I'll be in the lecture hall, Greg."

He watched her walk away and turned back to Stacy. "What are you doing here?" he asked. He noticed the large file she carried.

"I need your help," she answered as she held out the file to him. "My husband, Mark, is sick."

House took the files and read them. "So, he's suffering from abdominal pain and fainting spells. No sign of tumors, no vasculitis. Could be indigestion, or maybe a kidney stone."

"When did Reilly come back?" she asked.

He shrugged and began to look over her husband's x-rays. "About a year ago."

"You didn't tell her about me?"

"Didn't come up. So, how long have you and Mack been married?"

"His name is Mark. Did you think I wouldn't get married?" she asked.

He shoved everything back at her. "To be perfectly honest, I didn't give it much thought. I gotta give a lecture. I'm all about nurturing the young."

"Oh, yeah, that sounds like you. What did Lisa bribe you with?"

He laughed mirthlessly. "Why are you here?"

"Because my husband is sick. He's been to five doctors and three hospitals. No one found anything."

He shrugged and started to make his way out of the clinic and across the lobby. "Go up to the fourth floor and leave all that with my team. Doctor Cameron will schedule a time for Mark to come in."

He continued on to the lecture hall.

Once House finished his lecture, Reilly slowly got up and went to the Diagnostics conference room. Hearing about his leg and how Stacy went behind his back the way she did left her stunned and slightly sick. She sank down in a chair at the table and rested her head on the cool glass top. She heard the door swing open and heard the distinctive sound of a cane hitting the floor.

"Do not feel sorry for me," he said as he sat down next to her.

She breathed out but didn't lift her head.

"Things like that happen," he continued.

She sat up and looked at him. "Why didn't you call me?" she asked.

He shrugged. "There was nothing you could do."

"I would have come. I would have been here for you."

"You were married. You had your kids to worry about."

"I would have come," she repeated.

He sat silently staring out the window. After several minutes, he spoke softly. "I didn't want you to see me like this."

"Why? I've never judged you. I'm judging that ex of yours, though."

He laughed. "Yeah, I knew you would." He looked at her. "What would you have done?"

"You know what I would have done."

"Even if it killed me?"

"It's your body, Greg. You get to decide what happens to you. But I would have told you about the other option so you had all the facts. I'm surprised Doctor Cuddy didn't tell you about it. I certainly wouldn't wait until you were in a coma and then approve a procedure that you didn't know about."

"I want you to be my medical proxy," he told her suddenly. "And I want to be yours."

"Okay," she agreed. "Does this mean you're done punishing me and that you forgive me for leaving you?"

"Yeah."

He took her hand and laced his fingers through hers.

Cameron walked in. "I take it you two are friends again?" she asked.

Reilly nodded. "We are."

"We're having dinner Friday night with her and her rugrats," House told her.

Cameron looked at Reilly. "How'd you get him to agree to that?"

"I bribed him."

"One more thing we have in common," Cameron laughed.

"You bribe me?" House asked in shock.

Cameron nodded. "Occasionally."

He narrowed his eyes. "I see I'll have to keep an eye on both of you from now on."

House picked Cameron up at five thirty on Friday evening and they drove to Reilly's house. He whistled softly when he saw it. It was a two-story Colonial with red brick, white columns and black shutters.

"She said alimony is a very good thing," Cameron told him as they got out. "And I still think we should have brought some wine at least."

"She doesn't drink," House told her as they walked up to the house. "I'm sure that breaks some important Irish Catholic rule."

He reached out and rang the doorbell. The door swung open to reveal Jenny. She smiled when she saw Cameron.

"Hi, Allison," she said. She looked at House and her smile dimmed slightly. "Hello, Doctor House. Won't you come in?"

"Allison?" House questioned softly. "Have you been cheating on me?"

"Yes," Cameron smiled. "Often. I come over here whenever I'm not with you or working. I've even spent the night."

House leered at her. "A sleepover?"

"Sometimes we even have pillow fights in our nighties."

House's eyes glazed over slightly. Cameron laughed and took his hand.

Jenny led them into a large kitchen where Reilly and Sarah were putting the finishing touches on dinner. A large round table was set for five. The kitchen opened out to a large informal living area. There were bookshelves lining the back wall and the television sat in the center. A large sofa separated the two rooms. There were also two large chairs and a coffee table. Two sets of French doors ed out to the backyard and the pool. Both rooms were decorated in soft shades of yellow and grey.

"Hi, Allison," Sarah said with a smile. She nodded at House her eyes locking with his.

"Girls," Reilly said. "That is Greg. You will be nice to him and treat him with respect."

"He ignored you, Mom," Sarah said without taking her eyes off House.

"And I left him to marry your dad. No more impertinence. Understand?"

"Will you finally tell us about him?" Jenny asked.

"Yes, will you?" Cameron asked with a wide smile.

Reilly smiled at House. "Maybe Greg will tell you."

"Your mother encouraged me to do very bad things," he said.

"I did not!" Reilly gasped with indignation. "You were the instigator!"

"And she lies," House continued with a slight smile.

Reilly stared at him with narrowed eyes. "Greg put a snake in your Uncle Boo's bed."

Everyone turned to look at him. He shrugged. "His reaction was worth it."

"It was, wasn't it?" Reilly laughed. "At first he was terrified. Then Greg showed him it was simply a harmless black snake. We had Slinky for a long time."

The oven timer dinged.

"Still hate pickles?" Reilly asked as she turned to the oven.

"Yep," House told her.

She and Sarah began to carry the food to the table and they all sat down. They talked and laughed as they ate hamburgers, onion rings and salad. Once the dinner dishes were cleared away, Sarah brought a chocolate cake to the table and Jenny brought the dessert plates.

"Do you want some coffee?" Reilly asked Cameron and House.

"So long as Cameron didn't make it," House told her.

"Oh, ha, ha," Cameron smirked.

Reilly brought them coffee and then set the carafe on the table. Once they all had cake, Jenny looked at House.

"How did you hurt your leg?" she asked.

"I had an infarction in an artery in my thigh. It cut off blood to the muscle. The muscle died and it had to be cut away."

"Does it still hurt?" she asked.

"Yes, it does."

An awkward silence descended on them. Sarah and Jenny studied House as he concentrated on his cake. He kept his eyes lowered and Reilly looked at Cameron. Cameron looked at Sarah.

"Did you make the cheerleading team?" she inquired.

"No," Sarah replied with a scowl.

"Why didn't you make the team?" House asked looking up at her. "Are you clumsy like your mom?" He looked at Reilly with feigned pity. She made a face at him which brought a smile to his face. Cameron relaxed. The tension was dispelled and they all seemed more comfortable.

"I can't do a flip."

"She wouldn't even try," Reilly told him.

Sarah looked down at her plate and pushed the cake around.

"You gotta practice," he told her. "Your Aunt Eithne could show you if she lived close by. She was practically a contortionist."

"She's very bendy," Jenny said.

House laughed. "That's one way to put it."

Jenny leaned toward House. "Is it true you and Mom embalmed a rat?" she asked with a glint in her eyes.

"We did," House told her. "I've still got the rat."

"What?" Reilly exclaimed. "You told me it got lost when we went to Langston!"

"I wanted to keep it."

"We were going to share custody of Fatty Fat Rat. And you lied to me. I want to see him," she told him.

House looked at her and tilted his head. "I don't know. He lost an ear when he was with you."

"That was Gus!"

"Because you didn't protect poor Fatty."

Sarah leaned close to Cameron. "Does this make you feel jealous?" she whispered as her mother and House continued to argue about the rat.

"No," Cameron whispered back. "It makes me happy. House really missed your mom."

"If I tell you a secret will you promise not to get mad?" she asked leaning closer.

Cameron nodded. "You know you can tell me anything."

"I wish my mom had married Greg."

Cameron looked at the two of them. They were laughing now and House looked relaxed and happy.

"Are you mad?" Sarah breathed.

"No," Cameron assured her. "I just want House to be happy."


	22. Chapter 22

2005

Even though Cameron scheduled appointments for Stacy's husband, Mark, he never kept them. Finally, House met Stacy and Mark for dinner. House paid the bartender fifty dollars to drug Mark's beer. Once he was admitted to the hospital, his condition worsened. After exploratory surgery, House discovered tremors in the muscle fibers in Mark's abdomen. After another round of tests, Mark became paralyzed.

Reilly listened as Wilson told her that House admitted he didn't care if Mark died and even went so far as to taunt him about Stacy during a PET scan.

"He'll listen to you," Wilson told her. "You need to find out what's going on with him."

"He told you that in private, yes?" she asked. She folded her arms. "I like you, James. I do. But, I'm not Lisa Cuddy. I'm not going to sneak around behind his back and try to fix him. He doesn't need fixing. If he asked Mark those questions during the scan, then he had medical reasons for doing it. If he told you something in confidence, then you shouldn't come running to me about it."

"I think he wants Stacy back," Wilson told her placing his hands on his hips and looking at her defiantly. "I was here with him when she left. I had to pick up the pieces. You didn't."

She laughed incredulously. "Are we competing to see who's a better friend to him?"

"You left him, too."

"Wow," she remarked. "For the record, I wasn't dating him. I also love that he has you in his life. But I will not be pulled into your machinations to teach him some kind of lesson."

Wilson dropped his hands. "He told me to tell you," he confessed. "He wanted to know what you'd do. He needed to know that you hadn't changed."

"Well, I will go tell him I haven't."

She walked away and Wilson smiled.

Reilly found House on the roof of the hospital.

"You're a bastard," she told him leaning against the ledge beside him.

"Wilson told you."

"Do you want Stacy back?" she asked. "Because I thought you were happy with Allison."

"I am. But there's a part of me that wants Stacy to suffer."

"Me, too. But Mark didn't do anything except marry her."

"Tell me what to do," he said staring out at the dark sky.

"Figure out what's wrong with him," she responded. "I've been thinking-"

"Well, that's dangerous."

"I've been thinking about this, " she continued as she leaned against him. "What if he has AIP?"

"There's not really anything to indicate he does and it's a tough thing to diagnose. We'd have to get a urine sample while he's having an attack. Why do you think he has it?"

"I was going over the results of his PET scan with him and Stacy. You asked about their honeymoon. He said he took her to Paris. She told me they didn't have one because she had to work."

"Put that together with his other symptoms and he's got AIP," he said softly. "I could set off an attack and we could get a urine sample."

"Not the most ethical thing to do," she told him.

"So, that's what we're going to do. God, I'm glad I hired you."

Reilly sighed.

House sat in his office doing research when Cuddy entered.

"You induced an AIP attack in Mark Warner and then pulled a urine sample directly from his bladder?" she asked incredulously. "He gave his permission for that?"

"Nope," House said without looking up from his research. "His significant other did. You remember how that's done, right? You ignore the patient's wishes and go behind his back because the significant other tells you to? It's great because this time it worked. Now we know what's wrong with him and he can receive the proper treatment."

Cuddy looked at him defiantly. "He's going to need close monitoring here at the hospital. I offered Stacy a job as general counsel. God knows we can use her. Thing is she won't take the job unless you're okay with her working here."

He shrugged. "If you want to hire her, do it."

"And you're not going to play any of your mind games and try to break up their marriage?"

He leaned back and took his glasses off. "I'm with Cameron. Whether any of you believe it or not, I am over Stacy."

Cuddy looked into his eyes, saw he was telling the truth and left. House went back to his research.


	23. Chapter 23

House walked into the conference room and tossed several copies of a patient's file on the conference table. Cameron took them and passed them around to the others. She opened hers and looked up at House in surprise.

"A death row inmate?" she asked.

House walked over to the whiteboard and wrote Death Row Guy on it.

"He was getting his hour of exercise," he told them. "Then his heart started to pump out air instead of blood. How cool is that?"

"He's on death row," Chase reminded him. "He's going to be executed. Why are we bothering with him?"

"His heart started to pump out air instead of blood," House said slowly as if talking to a particularly dim child.

"So, he's a puzzle?" Reilly asked.

House shrugged.

"You'll never be able to get him out of prison," she told him closing the patient file.

He smiled at her. "He's already here. Stacy got a court order, Cuddy did some shrieking, and we got our patient. Chase, Cameron, go get him intubated and draw blood for labs. Besides the whole heart pumping air thing, he's hypoxic. Most likely has pulmonary edema. We gotta figure out what's killing him so we can send him back to prison so the State can kill him. Am I the only one who thinks that's weird?"

Once they left, Reilly leaned back in her chair and watched House write the symptoms out on the board.

"How did you convince Doctor Cuddy to let you have this case? It should have gone to Doctor Nolo since he's the head of cardiology," she commented.

He shrugged and put the cap back on the marker before dropping it in the tray at the bottom of the whiteboard. "Two extra clinic hours."

"And who are you going to pawn those off on?"

He rolled his eyes and moved to sit in the chair across from her. "Well, I was going to make Chase do them but now I guess I will."

"You never cease to amaze me."

He smiled.

"I'm continually astounded by the lengths you'll go to just to get a medical puzzle to solve. Are you that bored? Or was this about getting Stacy in trouble with Doctor Cuddy since she had to get permission from a judge to get Clarence transferred here? I know that's not something you'd clear with Doctor Cuddy first."

"God, I hate that you know me so well," he sighed. He looked away and rubbed his hand over his face. "It's a little of both, I guess. Cuddy reamed Stacy and not in the good way which was still satisfying."

Reilly leaned forward on the table and snapped her fingers. "Look at me," she commanded. He groaned and looked at her. She could see the pain in his eyes and it was like a knife to her heart. "Are you happy with Allison?" she asked.

He looked at her for several moments. "I don't know," he said softly. "I think I could be."

"Then why not let yourself be happy with her? She loves you, right?"

He nodded. "She says she does."

Reilly reached out and House took her hand. "She's not the type to lie," she told him.

"I just don't understand what she sees in me," he told her. "I'm twice her age, I'm not nice, I'm not that great looking, and yet she's with me. Sometimes I think it's because she doesn't actually love me; she just needs me because I'm damaged."

"You're so full of shit," Reilly told him. "You aren't twice her age. You are older than her but not by that much. You're nice to her. You're nice to me. And you are good looking. Why would so many women be giving you the glad eye when you walk around here?"

"Are you sure that isn't because Wilson's walking beside me?"

"I don't usually walk around with you and James. But when I'm walking around with you, they look at you like you're a particularly tasty morsel."

"You sure it's not Chase they're looking at? He does have great hair."

"No, Greg. I mean you." she assured him and squeezed his hand.

Two days later, after subjecting Clarence to a battery of tests and a painful MRI, they removed a pheochromocytoma. The tumor on his adrenal gland caused him to kill four people and all his other symptoms were a result of him drinking copier fluid. When Clarence was sent back to prison, Reilly and Cameron watched him being taken out in shackles.

"Thank you for talking to House," Cameron told her as they watched Clarence shuffle calmly down the hallway surrounded by guards. "I knew something was bothering him but he wouldn't tell me what."

"I'm surprised he told you," Reilly commented.

Cameron turned and smiled at her. "He did."

Reilly smiled back at her.


	24. Chapter 24

2005

A few weeks later, Wilson brought them a case. Chase looked at the file and then looked up at Wilson. "She's got cancer," he said.

"Thank you, Doctor Obvious, for your brilliant insight," House said as he sat with his feet propped up on the conference table. Suddenly, he sneezed several times. He pulled out a wad of tissues from his suit pocket and wiped his nose. "Damn cold. She's hallucinating." He sneezed again.

"She has Alveolar Rhabdomyosarcoma. It probably moved to her brain which would explain the hallucinations. Have you taken some Benedryl? It's probably allergies," Chase responded sullenly.

"I already took one thousand milligrams," House told him and sneezed three more times. "Brain is clear. It's not the rhabdo."

"If you can fix whatever's wrong with her," Wilson told them. "She could have another year which is a pretty long time for a nine-year-old."

Cameron brought him his red mug. He took it from her and looked over the patient file open in his lap. "Chase, go get an MRI and a tox screen." He drank from his mug and nearly spit the liquid out as he grimaced. He looked up at Cameron. "What the hell is this?"

She looked at him. "Black walnut and ginger tea. For your cold."

He nodded and tried to smile. "It's nice."

She smiled serenely.

House and Reilly were sitting in his office talking when Chase walked in.

"-boxcutters to do it," House said and then sneezed four times.

"Ewww," Reilly responded with a grimace.

House looked up at Chase. "Well?"

"She's clean. No infection, nothing."

"Her oxygen saturation is at ninety-four percent," House told him.

"That points to a problem with her lungs," Reilly said.

"Do all the usual tests and when they come back negative, snake a catheter in her lungs." House told Chase and stood up. "I'm going home. If I don't sleep in, I'll bring bagels."

The next morning they all sat around the table in the conference room. A box of bagels was open in the center of it among all the paperwork.

"Everything came back clean," Reilly mused as she looked over the test results. "It's got to be something else." She took a bite of her bagel and stared off into space.

"What do you think it is?" House asked her leaning forward.

"Well…" she began and shook her head. "No, Andi's nine."

"Share with the class," House prompted.

"Neurosyphilis."

"No," Chase said adamantly. "She hasn't had sex. She's nine for Christ's sake!"

"If the infection moved to her cerebral cortex, then all her peripheral functions could be compromised," Cameron told them. "Maybe she's been molested. She's spent most of her life around adults."

"Time to break out the rape kit," House responded.

"She hasn't had sex!" Chase replied heatedly.

House and Reilly exchanged a look. She nodded slightly.

"You sound awfully sure of that. Did you read it in her diary?" House asked with a touch of sarcasm.

"She told me she's never been kissed," Chase said a tinge of pink staining his cheeks. "If she's never been kissed then it's a sure bet she hasn't had sex."

"You kissed her," Reilly gasped.

Chase hung his head. "It was one small kiss for a dying girl. It wasn't sick."

Cameron stared at him wide eyed with her hands over her mouth. Reilly shivered and closed her eyes.

"You and your hair are never to come near my daughters," she told him as House laughed.

Chase groaned and left the room.

Reilly stood up. "Come on, Allison. Let's go see if Chase's new girlfriend had sex."

The rape kit came back negative. When her oxygen saturation level dropped another percent, House suggested she might have Tuberous Sclerosis. As they all listened to Andi's heartbeat in the locker room, Cameron heard an extra flap on Andi's tricuspid valve. The tumor was found and removed but Andi developed a bleed in her eye. Finally, House got permission from Cuddy to basically kill Andi so they could remove half her blood and find the tumor in her brain. The procedure worked and the tumor was removed. As she was leaving the hospital, Andi hugged House and suggested he go outside and walk in the sunshine. Reilly leaned on the counter behind him and watched her leave with her mother.

"Wanna go for a walk?" he asked her.

"Sure," she told him.

They ended up taking her car to get lunch and then walked along the street. House stopped when he saw a motorcycle store. Several motorcycles were sitting out on the sidewalk.

"You interested?" a young man asked him. "You can still ride." He inclined his head toward House's cane. "We've got excellent financing right now. It lists for ten eight but I'll let you steal it out the door for ten three."

"You've always wanted one," Reilly commented as she looked over a brightly painted Repsol. She looked up at the salesman. "This one is scratched pretty badly. I think you can do a lot better than ten three."

He smiled slightly but didn't respond. Reilly looked at House. "I know another dealership where you can get a better deal than that," she told him.

"Why don't you take it for a test ride?" the man suggested quickly.

"Yeah," Reilly said. "Take it for a test ride to make sure it's only scratched."

While House was test driving the Repsol, Reilly got the owner of the store to drop the price to five one with three percent interest. House returned an hour later and bought the bike.

A few weeks later, House called Reilly into his office.

"Close the blinds," he told her.

She raised her eyebrows in surprise but closed them. "What's wrong?" she asked as she sat down in his lounger and put her feet up.

"They're coming," he told her. "He took her to Europe and they have a layover here. Mom wants to meet Cameron. She wants us to have dinner together."

"And you don't want to subject Allison to Uncle John."

"I don't want to be subjected to my faux father," House told her.

"Well, when will they be here?"

"Thursday."

"That's tomorrow!"

"You gotta get us out of it," he pleaded. "I already asked Wilson but he's all pissy about the five grand he loaned me."

Reilly frowned. "Why did he loan you five thousand dollars?"

"For the bike," he said giving her a "duh" look.

"You already paid for the bike with a check which I know for a fact has already cleared your bank," she told him.

"Which left me with five thousand less in my account," he told her. She looked at him incredulously. "Oh, don't looked shocked. I told him and that's why he won't give me an excuse not to have dinner with the parental units and my girlfriend. So, that leaves you."

"Well, tell them to come here. Our patient, Carnell, is getting worse and we're no closer to a diagnosis. We'll have dinner in the cafeteria and I'll bring Sarah and Jenny. They haven't seen Aunt Blythe and Uncle John since we moved here," she told him. "That way he can't be too nasty to you."

"Thank you," he said sincerely.

The next night, Reilly, Sarah, Jenny, Cameron and House waited in the conference room. Sarah and Jenny sat at the computer playing a game. Reilly, House and Cameron sat at the table as they looked at Carnell's chart.

"Why do people lie to me?" House wondered aloud. "This kid and his dad do nothing but lie. They lie to each other and to us. Now, the kid is probably going to die. All of this could have been prevented if they just told us the truth."

The door opened and his parents walked in. Blythe smiled when she saw them. Reilly stood and smiled. House slowly rose and walked over to his mother. He looked down at her and then very gently hugged her. John watched them with a blank look on his face.

House stepped back from his mother and inclined his head at John. Then he turned to Cameron.

"This is my girlfriend, Allison Cameron," he told them.

"How nice to finally meet you, Allison," Blythe said as Cameron moved forward to hug her.

"It's good to meet you, too, Mrs. House," Cameron said. She looked at John and held out her hand. "Mr. House." John took her hand and shook it.

"You pregnant yet?" he asked her.

She stared at him in shock. "Well...we've...I…" she stammered

"No, Dad," House told him stonily.

"I'm sorry. I like to tease my son," John told her with a slight emphasis on the word son.

Reilly hugged Blythe. "It's so good to see you, Aunt Blythe." She pulled back and called her daughters over. They threw their arms around Blythe's waist. She smiled and held them close.

"Let me look at you two," she said as they stepped back and smiled at her. They completely ignored John. "You two have grown so much since the last time I saw you. We brought you gifts but they're in the car." She turned to John. "Will you go get the gifts for Jenny and Sarah?"

He nodded curtly and left. Blythe looked at Cameron. "I want to apologize for my husband."

"No need," Cameron assured her.

Blythe walked over to House who stood near the whiteboard. "I'm glad you were able to make time for me," she told him.

"Come on, Mom, don't try to make me feel guilty."

She reached up and stroked his cheek. "I'm not. I am glad you were able to make time for me. All things considered, I didn't think you would."

"I will always have time for you," he assured her.

"So, you and Reilly are working together," she smiled. "I'm glad."

House nodded. Cameron's and Reilly's pagers went off. They pulled them out and looked at them. Cameron went over to the desk and picked up the phone. She turned her back on them and spoke quietly. She hung up the phone and turned to face them.

"Carnell's prepped for surgery," she told House. "I'll go observe."

House shook his head. "Chase can do it."

"He's gone home."

"Then get him back."

Cameron sighed and turned back to the phone.

"We're keeping you from your job," Blythe said to House.

He shook his head. "It's fine."

John returned carrying a shopping bag. He handed it to Blythe. Sarah and Jenny crowded around her. She pulled out a box and gave it to Sarah and then pulled out another that she gave to Jenny. Inside each box was a silver Celtic knot on a slender silver chain. The girls gasped as they took them out of the boxes.

"Oh, it's so beautiful!" Sarah smiled.

"I'll always wear it!" Jenny told her.

"Thank you, Aunt Blythe," they said.

Reilly helped them fasten the necklaces around their necks. She hugged Blythe again. "Thank you," she whispered in her ear.

They all went down to the cafeteria and ordered sandwiches and soft drinks. Reilly and Cameron kept both Blythe and John engaged in conversation so House didn't have to do much talking. As they walked out to the parking lot, Blythe pulled House to one side.

"I'm glad Reilly's back in your life and that you have Allison, too," she told him.

"So am I," he responded with a smile.

"You know your dad just wants to help you, right?" she asked searching his eyes.

"I don't need help," he told her.

"Well, I know that," she smiled. "You're absolutely perfect just the way you are." She stretched up and kissed his cheek.

"Have a safe trip home, Mom," he whispered.

She nodded and walked to the car.


	25. Chapter 25

2006

House woke and stretched. Turning his head, he looked at the clock. The illuminated dial read seven. Cameron was curled up beside him sleeping. He rolled onto his side and gently pushed the hair out of her face. Then he began to drop kisses on her shoulder as his hand slipped beneath the covers and closed over her breast. With a sharp intake of air, Cameron blinked several times and then looked at him. A soft sigh escaped her as his thumb rubbed across her nipple. It tightened and became hard. Pushing the blankets back, he dipped his head and took the jutting rosy tip into his mouth and swirled his tongue over the smooth skin and pebble hard nipple. She rolled onto her back and he kissed his way across to her other breast. He hands tangled in this hair as he nibbled and sucked on her sensitive skin. Slowly, he worked his way down her body until her reached the thin strip of hair between her legs. She gasped when his fingers found her clit and began to stroke it. Sweat beaded on her skin and she arched up against him. His fingers were soon coated with her juices so he kissed his way back up to her mouth. She ran her hands over his back and chest as they kissed, their tongues sliding together. He fumbled with the drawer to his night table and pulled out a condom. She pushed him onto his back and took the condom from him. Her pale skin gleamed in the early morning light. Her long dark hair clung to her skin as she smiled down at him. She dropped the condom on the bed and leaned down to kiss his chest. She nipped at his nipples and he groaned. She licked a trail of fire down his stomach and then settled between his legs. Slowly, she traced the length of his erection before sucking lightly on the tip. Desire coiled in his stomach and then tingled through his body. She gently massaged his balls as she kissed the inside of his left thigh. He grunted when her teeth nipped him. Then she rose up on her knees, leaned over and grabbed the condom. She tore it open with her teeth and then rolled it on him. She moved up and straddled him. As she sank down on his stiff cock, she leaned in and kissed him. His hands cupped her breasts as he returned her kiss. Then she began to move and all he could think about was the warm, slippery feel of her. She reached down and began to rub her clit.

"Oh, Jesus!" he moaned loudly.

He loved it when she did that and he curled his fingers in the sheets. She smiled at him and then tossed her head back as her orgasm washed over her. She moaned his name and then his own orgasm thundered through him. Every muscle in his body tightened and then relaxed. Cameron rolled off him and lay on the bed beside him panting.

"God, I'm so glad you like morning sex," he gasped.

She laughed, sat up and kissed him. Then she looked at the clock. "I'm going to take a shower," she told him. "Do you want me to get breakfast when I'm done?"

"Yeah, wake me up when it's ready," he told her as his eyes slid closed.

It seemed he just fell asleep when Cameron shook his shoulder and kissed his cheek. The sharp smell of mint tickled his nose.

"Wake up, sleepy head," she whispered. "It's after ten and your breakfast is ready."

He stretched and a tiny moan escaped him. Looking over at the nightstand, he saw a bagel slathered in cream cheese and topped with lox. A tall paper cup sat next to it.

"You are a good girlfriend," he told her as he sat up and began to eat. She went back into the bathroom and he heard her hair dryer start buzzing. He quickly finished his bagel and took a long sip of coffee before getting up. When he entered the bathroom, Cameron was putting her hair up. He kissed the back of her neck and then moved over to the toilet. When he finished, Cameron turned on the shower for him. As he carefully stepped into the bathtub, she began to apply her makeup. He washed quickly, shut off the water and pushed the shower curtain back. Cameron held out her hand and helped him out. Then she handed him a towel and went into the bedroom. As he dried off, he watched her pull clothes out of her large totebag. He wrapped the towel around his waist and grabbed his toothbrush and the toothpaste.

Ten minutes later they were both dressed and headed out the door. When they stepped outside, a young man leaned against Cameron's car reading a newspaper. House scowled. The man folded the newspaper and pulled several files out of his suit pocket. They were folded and creased.

"Hey," he said as he smiled insincerely at them.

"Doctor Cameron, I'd like you to meet my stalker," House said with a glare at the man.

"Your waiting room sucks but at least you have good taste in women," the man responded pushing away from her car. He walked over to House and shoved his files into House's hands.

"No other doctors can figure out what's wrong with me," he told House.

House crushed the files and looked at him. "Well your shirt is gaping at the collar which means you lost weight. You're flushed which means you have a fever, and you're short of breath. And finally there's the KS lesion on your face; means you're HIV positive and you've progressed to full-blown AIDS. So you're sick because your immune system is shot and someone sneezed on you. Can I be excused now?"

"House," Cameron said softly.

The man grabbed House's cane. " Brilliant, but my immune system is fine."

They began to struggle with the cane. "Get your T-cell count checked," House ground out. "And let go of my cane."

"Honey, I will marry it if you'll treat me," the other man gasped.

Cameron grabbed House's arm. House released the cane and the man fell back and slid against Cameron's car. His breathing became labored as he fell to the sidewalk. Cameron rushed over to him.

"I didn't touch him," House told her.

"He's going into anaphylactic shock," she told him as she dug into her tote and pulled out a small medical bag. "Call 911!" She opened the bag and pulled out a syringe. Pulling off the top, she plunged it into the man's leg. He gasped loudly and then lost consciousness. Cameron felt for a pulse and checked his breathing. She looked over her shoulder at House with wide eyes.

An ambulance arrived and House instructed them to take the man to Princeton Plainsboro. Once they left, House and Cameron got into her car and followed the ambulance.

They got the patient, Kalvin, admitted to the ER then they headed up to the fourth floor. Reilly and Chase looked up when they walked in. House tossed his backpack into his office and then walked over to table. A box of donuts sat in the middle of it.

Cuddy entered and walked over to House.

"Go see Stacy," she told him.

"Cameron gave him epi and he's fine now," House told her without looking at her as he picked up a doughnut.

"You hit him," she replied crossly. "You need a lawyer. Go see Stacy."

"I didn't hit him. Cameron can tell you that I didn't hit him."

"Then take Cameron with you but go see Stacy. She's at home today," she informed him and walked out the door.

House looked at Cameron. "Wanna drive me to Short Hills?" he asked.

Cameron sighed and nodded.

Cameron rang the bell of the large two story house Stacy and Mark lived in. It was a split level ranch with a neatly mown front lawn and a border of bright flowers. The front door swung open and Stacy looked out at them.

"Come in," she said politely and then stepped out to look up and down the street.

"No one followed us if that's what you're worried about," House told her.

"I'm waiting for the exterminator," she told him as she closed the door. "I saw a rat." She shuddered.

"I'm surprised your feet are on the floor," House commented.

"You have to treat him," she said referring to Kalvin.

House rolled his eyes and sighed loudly. "Medically, this case is a snooze-fest. AIDS plus infection."

Stacy folded her arms. "If you don't treat him, he's going to charge you with assault."

"You and Cuddy have a nice gossip session?" Cameron asked sharply. "House didn't hit him. The guy grabbed House's cane. All House did was let go."

Stacy smiled grimly. "He can still press charges."

"What'll happen to the rat?" House asked.

"It depends on whether or not you treat him," Stacy told him. "But you will be charged with assault."

"He means the rat you saw here," Cameron sighed.

House looked over at her smiled. "I'll treat my stalker if I can have the rat."

"If you can catch it," Stacy told him. "You are welcome to take it as far away from here as possible."

"Go to the nearest pet shop and get me a cage," House told Cameron. She nodded and left. "Got any peanuts or peanut butter?" he asked Stacy.

Two hours later, House and Cameron walked out of Stacy's house. House carried a cage with the rat in it.

"She still loves you," Cameron told him as he put the caged rat in the backseat of her car.

House shut the door, slid into the passenger seat and closed his door. "I don't love her," he told her as he fastened his seat belt.

They entered the lobby of the hospital and everyone turned to look at them and the rat in its cage. Reilly walked out of the clinic and fell in step beside them.

"Why do you have a rat?" she asked him as they all got into the elevator.

He slid a teasing smile at her. "Jealous?"

"Yes. What are you going to do with it?" she asked as she bent down and peered into the cage.

"Keep him," House told him. "Steve McQueen is sick."

"Good name," she told him as she straightened up. "I had Kalvin admitted and Chase is running tests on him.

"Who's Kalvin?" House questioned.

"Your stalker."

"How'd you know I agreed to treat him?" he asked her as they exited the elevator.

She smiled. "Because the docs in the ER ruled out infection and his T-cells are at two hundred which is high enough to fight off an infection. Which means something else is wrong with him. Something interesting."

House held the cage out to her. "Take Steve and treat him well," House told her.

Reilly let out a tiny squeal of delight as she took the cage. "I told Chase to take all the proper precautions with Kalvin. No sense in taking any chances. So, we'll need to make sure we wear gowns, gloves, and facemasks with the clear face guards."

"Smart thinking," House told her. "But I won't need all that."

Reilly rolled her eyes. "Are you impervious to HIV? Because you'll have to go in and see him at some point."

"Why?"

"Because something freaky will go wrong with him and you'll have to go in and either gloat or check it out."

"Sometimes I hate that you know me so well," he complained.

"So you keep saying," she grinned.

Cameron walked into the conference room late the next day. House looked at her over his shoulder. She wore scrubs, her face was bare of makeup and her damp hair was pulled back into a bun.

"Kalvin tested positive for drugs and he is coughing up blood. Chase is repairing the tear. I think he got a bad batch of drugs. They could be tainted. Reilly's taken them to the lab to be tested." She huffed out a breath. "He had them in his bag in his room."

House walked over to her and grasped her shoulders. He lowered his head and looked into her eyes.

"He coughed on you, didn't he?" he asked softly.

She nodded. "But I was completely covered. Even my hair. Reilly just checked me over thoroughly. I don't have any blood on me."

"But you're still freaked out."

She nodded. "If I hadn't been wearing the protective gear, I would've gotten his infected blood in my eyes and mouth. I'd be downstairs talking to the HIV specialist instead of up here with you."

House pulled her into his arms. "Thank God Reilly is so anal about things like that," he said against her hair. She nodded, buried her face in his chest and hugged him tightly.

By the end of the week, Kalvin's father showed up. He was a big, burly man who blamed his son for his wife's death. House did go in to see Kalvin and his father. He noticed the older man exhibited some of the same symptoms as Kalvin and provoked him until he punched House. House hit him with his cane which sent the man into anaphylactic shock. Reilly, who was watching from the doorway, calmly walked in and injected Kalvin's father with epinephrine.

"Echinococcus?" she asked House. "Good call. But I told you that you'd have to go in the room."

"Smart ass," House replied with a grin


	26. Chapter 26

2006

Stacy walked into the lobby at Princeton Plainsboro Hospital wearing a black pantsuit with a white shirt and low heeled black pumps. She carried her purse over one arm and her briefcase over the other. Bright sunlight flooded the lobby causing her to squint slightly. She was working overtime on the McGinley case. It still made her sad to think of Kayla McGinley. The fact she was one of House's patients made it even harder. Though Chase originally treated her, the team did become involved. From a legal standpoint, the whole case was a nightmare. From Chase's initial mistake the entire thing escalated. Now a young mother was dead and both House and Chase were scheduled for a peer review in two weeks. House chose to get his own lawyer but Stacy still had to represent Chase and he wasn't being very helpful. She felt like he wanted to be fired.

She passed the main desk and Cuddy called out to her. Stacy stopped and waited for Cuddy to join her.

"Hey," Cuddy said. She wore a skin tight black skirt, a low cut pink sweater, and three inch pumps. Stacy liked Lisa but she often wondered how she got away with dressing the way she did. One of the first rumors Stacy heard after starting work at the hospital was that House and Cuddy slept together while they were both in college. Stacy often wondered if Cuddy was in love with House and she dressed the way she did to get his attention. Stacy noticed Cuddy spent an inordinate amount of time micromanaging House.

"Did you talk to Chase yet?" she asked Stacy as she took some messages from the receptionist at the desk.

"Not yet but the review isn't for two weeks," Stacy informed her.

Cuddy shook her head. "It's been moved up to tomorrow. House's lawyer has already filed for a postponement. You need to get Chase to do the same."

She turned on her heel and went back to her office. Stacy blew out a sigh and went to find Chase.

She walked into the Diagnostics conference room. House stood at the whiteboard tapping a marker against his chin as he stared at the symptoms written on it. Reilly, Cameron and Chase sat at the table looking over a patient's file.

"Lupus," Chase said leaning back in his chair.

Reilly groaned. "It's not lupus because it's never lupus."

"Good morning, Stacy," Cameron said. Sunlight glinted off her rich brown hair and she wore what Stacy thought of as her uniform: pale grey pants with a matching vest over a pink top with short puffy sleeves. Stacy always felt a sharp stab of jealousy when she saw her. Cameron was not only breathtakingly beautiful but she made House happy. If Cameron weren't so kind and compassionate, Stacy could easily hate her.

House turned and looked at Stacy. "You need Chase?" he asked.

"Yeah," she told him.

"Go," he told Chase.

Chase got up and followed Stacy down to her office. She walked behind her desk and pointed to a chair in front of it. Chase sat down and she pulled out the paperwork requesting a postponement of the peer review.

"Sign this," she told. "It's a request to postpone the peer review which has been moved up. It's tomorrow. We want them to postpone. Over time, memories fade and tempers cool. House's lawyer has requested it already and he'll probably get it."

"No," Chase told her shaking his head. "I want to get it over with."

"They could fire you," she told him.

He looked at her resolutely. "Is that all you needed?" he asked as he got up.

"At least let me help you prepare for it."

He shook his head and left.

The next day the peer committee gave Chase the option of resigning and he took it. House's appeal was denied and the committee ordered that he be supervised by a doctor of Cuddy's choosing. By the end of the week, Chase was on a plane back to Australia and Reilly was in charge of Diagnostics and supervising House.

Reilly sat at the table in the conference room with a stack of resumes in front of her. She tried to convince Cuddy to let Wilson supervise House but Cuddy refused. So, now she was looking at resumes, organizing charts, and just generally cleaning up after House.

As she separated the resumes into two piles, she heard House coming down the hallway and he was singing. Reilly knew what the singing meant. He'd done something he shouldn't have done. Ever since he was a child he sang whenever he'd done something especially naughty. He and Stacy went to Maryland to sort out a problem with his billing practices. She knew he ended up on the no-fly list which didn't surprise her so Cameron drove down to get him. That was three days ago so Reilly knew he convinced Cameron to take her time bringing him back. That wasn't enough to prompt the singing, though.

He flung the door open, sang louder and tossed his backpack in his office.

"What did you do and where is Allison?" she asked without looking up.

"Cameron is taking the day off and what makes you think I did something?" he asked as he removed his jacket and hung it on the coat rack.

"The singing."

He walked over to the coffee maker and poured himself a cup. "Stacy kissed me," he told her. He carried his red mug over to the table, sat down and leaned his cane against his chair.

"Since you were singing, you didn't tell Allison."

He squirmed in his chair and made a face. "She kissed me and then I went back down to the airport terminal. Cameron called about three seconds after Stacy kissed me. Stacy said I'm like vindaloo curry and then she kissed me."

Reilly looked up and rested her chin in the palm of her hand. "Did you kiss her back?"

House took a sip of his coffee and looked away.

"You kissed back," she sighed. "You have to tell Allison."

He shrugged. "It was a teeny tiny kiss."

"Are you trying to blow up your relationship with Allison?"

He sighed. "She wants to have a baby."

"And you don't want kids."

"No," he told her softly. "As I'm sure you remember, I didn't have the best paternal role model growing up. She needs to have kids with someone who isn't as damaged as she is. She needs normal to balance her out. I'm not normal."

"So, talk to her. I don't want to have to hire someone else because you kissed back."

"What if she hates me?" he asked.

"She loves you. But you want different things. It's better to end things amicably. Just don't be off-hand and callous when you talk to her," she told him as she got up.

"Bah!" he squawked as she walked toward his office. "I'm not done. You need to tell me what to say."

She waved her hand at him and continued on into his office.

He slumped down in the chair. "I thought friends helped friends," he called out.

"I did," she called back. "Go talk to Allison."

House tapped on Cameron's door with his cane. He had a key but didn't want to use it. The door swung open and she smiled at him. Her hair spilled over her shoulders and she wore faded jeans and a red t-shirt.

"Why didn't you use your key?" she asked and then kissed him.

He walked past her into the living room of her apartment and slumped down on the couch. She sat down next to him.

"We need to talk," he told her.

She sighed and folded her legs beneath her. "You're breaking up with me."

"I don't want kids," he told her. "And if you stay with me you will start to resent me because you do." He turned and looked into her eyes. "I don't want you to resent me or hate me. You need someone normal. I'm too damaged and so are you."

She took his hand and stroked his fingers. "I know Stacy kissed you." He opened his mouth but she put her hand up. "It was the singing. I also know you wouldn't initiate a kiss but, since it's Stacy, you would let her kiss you. Do you want to be with her?"

"No," he told her. "To be honest I don't know what I want. Well, that's not completely true. I don't want to hurt you and I don't want you to quit."

She smiled slightly. "I'm not going to quit and I'll always be here for you. As for the hurt, it's bearable."

He narrowed his eyes and shifted slightly on the couch so he faced her. "This feels wrong," he told her. "There's no cursing, no screaming, no rending of garments, not throwing heavy objects, slamming doors or damning silence. This is…."

"Civilized?"

"Weird. Are we breaking up and being okay with that?"

"It looks that way," she told him. "I realized something while you were you were gone. I was in love with you when I first started working with you. Now, though, I love you."

"There's a difference?"

She nodded. "Yeah, there is."

"So, we're okay?"

"Yeah," she laughed.

"Still feels weird," he told her.


	27. Chapter 27

2007

Reilly hired an enthusiastic young doctor named Lawrence Kutner. His specialty was sports medicine but both House and Reilly thought he would be a good addition to the team. He reminded House of an overly energetic puppy but he liked him. He didn't let Kutner know that, however. Reilly liked Kutner because he was smart and knew medicine. He also worked very well with all of them. Reilly suspected he had a crush on Cameron. She suspected Cameron knew that, too. She didn't encourage him and he didn't push things with her. He also liked breaking into patient's homes and businesses. He had a knack for picking locks. Reilly wasn't sure how she felt about the whole breaking and entering thing but it was House's department even though she was temporarily in charge. She did everything she could to keep things as normal as possible until House's probation period ended. He, on the other hand, seemed perfectly happy with her in charge.

One morning, Reilly went looking for House. He wasn't sleeping in the clinic, he wasn't with Wilson, he wasn't in the morgue, and he wasn't on the roof. She headed for the room of a patient House referred to as Coma Guy. She knew he liked to hide in there and watch television while he ate lunch. The door was partially open and she heard Cuddy.

"-has a migraine?" Cuddy asked incredulously.

"Oh no, no, no, no, no I gave him medication to prevent a migraine," House replied with touch of glee in his voice.

Reilly walked in. "Why is Von Lieberman here?" she asked him.

He smiled at her with wide, mischievous eyes.

Cuddy looked at her in consternation. "Who's Von Lieberman?"

"Phillip Weber," Reilly told her without taking her eyes off House.

Cuddy turned to House. "So you did write this memo!"

He waggled his eyebrows at her. "We can discuss the proper punishment later," he growled seductively. He slipped past her and grabbed Reilly pulling her out into the hallway.

"Von Lieberman is here to give a speech about his new wonder drug that prevents migraines," House told her as she pulled free of his grasp.

"So? We have a sixteen year-old patient covered in burns with a low potassium level that we can't explain who just had a seizure," she told him.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah. But I gave Coma Guy nitro and he still ended up with a migraine. And that was after I gave him Von Lieberman's new drug."

She closed her eyes and sighed. "Okay. Go torture that nasty little weasel. We'll deal with the patient." She opened her eyes and looked at him. "Do not do anything stupid."

He smiled innocently. "Who, me?"

She shook her head and walked off. House went looking for Wilson.

Reilly later found out that House humiliated Weber and got the authorization for his new drug pulled. He also gave himself a migraine and figured out what was wrong with their patient.

"How'd you get over that migraine so quickly?" she asked him late the next night.

He leaned back in his desk chair and folded his hands behind his head. "Oh, a little of this and a little of that."

"Sure it wasn't a lot of antidepressants and a little LSD?" she asked.

He just smiled.

"I will be so glad when you're back in charge of this department again. Keeping up with you is hard enough. I'm exhausted."

"What do you think about us running the department together?" he asked.

"Why? So I can keep doing all the paperwork?" she shot back.

"No. I went up to see the number crunchers. I can promote you and get another doctor," he told her.

She leaned forward and rested her arms on his desk. "Does Doctor Cuddy know about that?"

"Yes she does."

"But she doesn't want you to have what the other doctors have," she said bitterly.

"We can go to the board and ask them to okay it," he told her. "I already talked to Cameron and Kutner and they like the idea of you being their boss and having another doc to help out around here."

"Or we could hire two nurses," she began.

"No. Nurses bad. Doctors good."

She shook her head. "Doctor Cuddy is going to be royally pissed off when we go over her head to the board."

He shrugged and pulled his left arm down to look at his watch. "Aren't we supposed to be at Sarah's piano recital in fifteen minutes?" he asked.

Cameron appeared in the doorway with her bag. "Are we still going to see Sarah play?" she asked.

"Yes!" Reilly assured her.

Kutner peeked in from the conference room. "Can I go?" he asked.

"Yes, but we have to hurry. We'll all go in my SUV then have dinner together with the girls," she told him.

"Shotgun!" House shouted.

The following week, they went to the board with their proposal. Reilly and Cameron put together a presentation and House explained what they wanted. Once they were done, the board members sent them out into the hall so they could discuss the team's proposal. While they waited, Cuddy came up to them and pulled House aside.

"Just what the hell do you think you're doing?" she hissed.

"Expanding the department that brings in the most donations," he responded calmly. "You?"

"You had no right to go behind my back like this!"

"Well, you weren't getting the job done so I had to do it myself."

"They'll never agree to it," she told him.

"You don't even know what we're asking for," he smirked.

"I know the accountants think there's money in the budget for you to promote McGrath and hire a new doctor but that money is earmarked for something else," she informed him stonily.

"Hmm," he hummed as he stroked his chin. "The board didn't mention anything about that. So, that leads me to think you're lying and just want to keep punishing me because I never called you back all those years ago." He leaned close to her until their noses nearly touched. "Do you still have the hots for me?"

She narrowed her eyes. "Oh, you'd like that wouldn't you?"

He leaned back against the wall again. "Not really."

"Now who's lying?" she smirked.

Before he could respond, the door to the conference room opened and the head of the board asked them to come back in. They all trooped back in with Cuddy close on House's heels.

The head of the board took his seat and smiled at them all. "We are happy to grant your request, Doctor House. Your department brings in so much money to the hospital and to be honest, we feel better knowing Doctor McGrath will be helping you run the department. We would also be happy to provide you with an assistant."

"You can't do this," Cuddy told him. "I have that money earmarked to hire more nurses."

"We are currently at capacity with the nursing staff," he told her. "Is there something happening we should know about?"

Cuddy breathed out and shook her head. She turned on her heel and left the room.

The team thanked the board members and then went back down to the Diagnostics department.

"I know just who we should hire," Reilly said once they were all seated around the conference room table.

"No!" House protested. "She's a cutthroat pixie!"

"She will balance out this team."

"She's pure evil!"

"You just don't like her because she called you on your shit," Reilly told him.

"I'm still the head of this department-" he began and then looked at Reilly. "Shit."

By the end of the week, Doctor Amber Volakis joined the team, a nurse named Emily joined them as Reilly's assistant and Reilly's name was added to the door of House's office.


	28. Chapter 28

2007

House stood at the butcher block island in his kitchen making a peanut butter sandwich and listening to blues when someone knocked on his door. He licked peanut butter off the edge of his palm and limped to the door. He unlocked it and looked at Wilson standing in the hallway with two suitcases.

"Julie is cheating on me," Wilson sighed. "I was hoping I could stay with you for awhile."

House nodded and stepped back to allow Wilson to enter.

Over the next few weeks, House realized he liked having a roommate again despite Wilson's inclination to rise early and spend hours in the bathroom. He played pranks on Wilson just like he did when he lived with Dylan Crandall. Wilson, however, didn't retaliate immediately. When he did, he sawed House's cane nearly in half and caused House to fall. House never felt so proud of Wilson as he did then.

"I hate these things," House complained as he tied his bow tie.

"It's for charity and you are getting a week off clinic duty for attending," Wilson called out from the bathroom. He walked into House's bedroom and pushed his hands away. Then he expertly tied the bow tie.

"Let's go," Wilson told him. "I have a good feeling about tonight. I feel like I might win."

"You suck at poker," House told him.

"How would you know?" Wilson asked as they exited the apartment. "You won't let me join your game."

House ignored him and got into Wilson's car.

As they sat at a table with Cuddy playing poker, an emergency room doctor approached her and told her about a patient of hers who just checked in. House listened attentively and then got up and walked away. He made his way down to the ER and talked to the parents of the patient. He did a cursory exam and then went in search of Kutner. Once he found him, House told him to round up the others and meet him in the Diagnostics conference room. He went up to his office and pulled an old file out of his bottom desk drawer. Taking it into the conference room, he used a marker to divide it the whiteboard in half. On one side he wrote the name Esther and on the other side he wrote Sick Kid. Then he began to list the symptoms.

"What's up?" Kutner asked.

"This file is twelve years old," Cameron commented.

House turned around and his breath left him at the sight of Cameron in a strapless, body hugging red dress. He shook his head and she smiled.

"What were we talking about?" he asked.

"Two different patients with some symptoms in common," Volakis told him. She wore a royal blue dress with a scooped neckline and her blonde hair hung like a silken curtain to her shoulders. She picked up the other file and looked through it. "The boy, Ian, is Doctor Cuddy's patient. She diagnosed him with gastroenteritis. Why did she refer him to you? Does she think it's something more serious?"

"Yes, I think he has Erdheim-Chester," House told her. "While you three were frolicking in college, I was treating a seventy-three year old woman who went through this progression of symptoms." He bent down and wrote DEATH on the bottom of the board. "In case you missed that class in medical school, there is no treatment or cure for that one."

"What's going on?" Reilly asked as she entered the room. She wore a floor length sleeveless black dress with a boat neck. Tiny pearls gleamed in her ears and her hair was pulled smoothly back from her face and twisted at the base of her neck in a red and gold streaked bun. Her brows drew together as she looked at the board. "We've got two patients and one of them is dead?" She looked at House.

"I'll fill you in later," he told her. He turned to Kutner. "Go do a colonoscopy and when you see some purple papules, grab me a slice."

"Erdheim-Chester?" Reilly questioned still frowning. "You think Esther died of it and now the boy has it? Fill me in now."

"Go," House told the others.

They looked at both of them and then filed out. Reilly folded her arms.

"Twelve years ago I had a patient with these symptoms," House began indicating the whiteboard. "She went downhill fast and after she died, her family wouldn't let me do an autopsy to confirm."

"So, you want to use a child to confirm a twelve year old case."

"Well, when you say it like that…"

"Isn't that what you're doing? Subjecting that baby to a battery of pretty painful tests to prove that you were right about Esther?" she asked.

"I know he has it. The colonoscopy will show that he has it."

She shook her head.

The colonoscopy didn't show that Ian had Erdheim-Chester. Over the course of the night, they ran numerous tests on him including getting a sample of his heart. Cuddy found out when Ian's parents went to her and complained. She forbade House to go near Ian. Finally, in the darkest part of the night just before dawn, House was standing out on the balcony outside his office staring out across the hospital parking lot. Wilson came out of his own office looking smug and self-satisfied.

"I won the poker tournament. I totally played this guy Burman from Business Affairs. I got great cards, but I don't bet. Just call, no raises. Burman pairs his king on the flop, I keep calling, the river turns, I check. He can't stand it. He goes all in, he's sure he's won. I call. I flip 'em. Oh!" he crowed.

"Pocket aces," House said.

"I nailed his ass!" Wilson cried in delight raising both hands in victory.

"They were hiding all the time," House murmured and went back into his office and through to the conference room. The team looked up as he came in.

"Test the kid for Erdheim-Chester," he told them.

"Uh, we did that already," Kutner reminded him. "He doesn't have it."

Reilly looked at House closely. "Let's go run the test again," she told them.

They all rose wearily and followed her down to the lab. She put the tiny sliver of heart muscle they had on a slide and put it under the microscope. The image showed up on the larger screen.

"Looks like macrophages," Cameron told House as he walked in and leaned against the wall.

Reilly applied the reagent to the tumor. It slowly began to turn red.

"Take your time and say it loud," House told them.

"CD sixty-eight positive," Volakis replied.

House pounded his fist against the wall and sank down onto a chair. "Start treatment."

Reilly nodded to them and the three of them left.

"You diagnosed them both and saved Ian," she told him.

"Are you going to say The Prayer Of The Dead for Esther?" he asked.

She looked at him in surprise. "No. Why would I?"

"You always did for all those corpses in the morgue."

"I can't hide anything from you," she laughed ruefully.

Bright sunlight flooded the lobby of the hospital. The janitorial staff was hard at work breaking down the tables from the charity event. Wilson leaned against the main desk and tugged his bowtie off. Reilly walked past him carrying her shoes.

"You seen House?" he asked her as he fell into step beside her.

"Uh, not for awhile. I think he went home."

"He's my ride," he told her.

"I'll drive you," she told him as they walked out to the parking lot. "Well, there's his car." She put her hand over her eyes and looked around. "But Cameron's is not here."

They continued walking to her car.

"Think they'll get back together?" he asked.

"Not for long," she smiled.

Cameron lay spread eagle on her bed as House kissed his way up the inside of her leg. She gasped when his teeth sank into the firm skin of her inner thigh. Then he moved over her and plunged into her. He bore all his weight on his arms as he pumped into her. She wrapped her legs around his waist and ran her hands over his back. Their moans of pleasure mingled and echoed off the walls of her bedroom. She arched up against him and cried out his name. A moment later, he threw his head back and moaned loudly. Then he collapsed on her and they gasped for air. He rolled over to lie beside her.

She turned her head and looked at him. "This doesn't mean we're back together."

"Right. This was just a way to work off the tension from the night," he agreed.

"So, we could do this whenever we need to work off some tension," she replied.

He rolled on to his side and placed his hand on her stomach. "Why, Doctor Cameron, are you suggesting we have a purely sexual relationship?"

She shrugged and pushed her sweat dampened hair off her face. "Only if you think you can handle it."

He laughed. "Oh, I can definitely handle it." He lay back and put his arm around her as she snuggled close to him.


	29. Chapter 29

2007

One morning in late May, the team was gathered in the conference room. House stood at the whiteboard while the others sat at the table looking over the file of their latest patient. The door swung open and an older man with dark hair and dark eyes walked in. He wore a grey suit, light blue shirt and polished black shoes. Reilly looked closely at him. He looked familiar but she couldn't remember where she saw him before. He walked up to House.

"Which one of you is Doctor House?" he asked.

"Skinny brunette," House responded jerking his thumb in Cameron's direction.

"No," the man responded. "That's Doctor Cameron."

House tilted his head and shrugged. "I'm a skinny brunette."

The stranger pulled out a gun and shot House in the stomach. Kutner started to rush forward followed by Reilly. The shooter swung the gun toward them.

"Don't touch him," he said calmly before looking down at House who lay on the floor bleeding. "Shocking, isn't it? Who'd want to shoot you?" he asked House before shooting him again in the neck.

When the shooter stepped back, Kutner leapt and tackled him. Volakis jumped forward and wrestled the gun from him while Kutner rolled him on his back and began to punch him in the face. Volakis pushed Kutner back and slammed the butt of the gun down on the man's face. Blood spurted everywhere and the shooter lay still.

"Call a code and get security up here!" Cameron screamed as she and Reilly knelt beside House. Cameron applied pressure to wound in his stomach and Reilly did the same for the gunshot wound in his neck.

He looked up into her eyes. Her tears landed on his face.

"You are not allowed to die," she whispered. His eyes drifted closed and she looked toward the hallway. Kutner and Volakis ran back in with a gurney with packages of bandages piled on it.

"I need a BP cuff," Reilly told them.

Kutner dashed out again. "And get an ambu bag!" she shouted after him.

"Got it!" he yelled.

Volakis knelt beside them and began tearing open the packets of bandages. The three of them began to pack the wounds. Reilly dug her fist into his chest. He didn't respond and she swallowed back a sob.

"No response to pain. Amber, get over here and check his pupil response," she ordered as Kutner came running in carrying the things she wanted. Wilson was right behind him. The shooter began to move and moan.

"Call the police, James!" Reilly shouted. "Where are the fucking security guards?"

"Pupils are sluggish but reactive to light," Volakis told her. She lifted his left wrist and looked at her watch. "Pulse is one twenty."

"Get his BP," Cameron told Reilly. She looked over her shoulder at Kutner. "Kutner, get in here with the ambu bag. Volakis, call down to the ER and let them know we're on our way down."

Wilson knelt down beside Reilly. Once she finished taking House's BP, he grasped her arm.

"What the hell happened?" he asked.

"BP is sixty palp," she said and then turned to look at Wilson. "That man...over there….he came in….shot Greg."

"Let's get him up on the gurney," Cameron said.

Carefully they all lifted House and laid him on the gurney. Volakis took hold of his wrist then put her fingers to the pulse point at his neck.

"No pulse!" she cried out.

"Move!" Reilly commanded. They all stepped back as she climbed up on the gurney and straddled House. She tore his shirt open and began chest compressions. "GO!"

When Cameron put her hand over the wound in his neck, Volakis put her hands over the wound in his stomach, Wilson pumped air into his lungs with the ambu bag and Kutner started to push the gurney. Reilly continued compressions only stopping to check for a pulse.

"HURRY!" she screamed as tears flooded her eyes.

Kutner got them in the elevator and pushed the button for the emergency room.

For Reilly, it seemed to take forever for them to get down to the ER. She continued to perform CPR as Kutner rolled them into the trauma bay of the ER. She checked his pulse again and sagged in relief when she felt it beneath her finger. His eyes fluttered open.

"Greg?" she asked leaning over him. "Can you hear me?"

"Tell Cuddy I want ketamine," he whispered and then lost consciousness again.

Reilly jumped off the gurney and let the ER doctors and nurses work on him. She started to shake and Wilson put his arm around her.

"I need to call and get an OR," she gasped.

"Cameron's doing that and she's letting them know about the ketamine," he told her. "Let's go sit down."

"No," she sobbed. "I'm not leaving him."

Wilson stayed with her while they prepped House for surgery. He stayed with her in the observation room above the operating room as a surgical team removed the bullets. He stayed with her at House's bedside in the intensive care unit. Finally, she fell asleep and he carried her to the doctor's call room and put her down on one of the beds. He removed her shoes and covered her with a blanket. Then he went back and sat at House's bedside. Two hours later Reilly shuffled into the room and sank down in the chair next to Wilson. Her hair hung around her face in tangled curls, her white shirt was splattered with House's blood, her floral skirt was wrinkled and she carried her white ballet flats in her hand.

"Any change?" she asked as she sat down next to him and dropped her shoes on the floor. She pulled her legs up against her chest and draped her skirt over them. She wrapped her arms around her legs and rested her chin on her knees.

"No."

"Do you know what happened to the man who shot him?"

"Cops came and took him away. Apparently his wife was a patient of House's and she died," Wilson told her.

"That's why he looked familiar," Reilly sighed. "If I remember correctly, his wife had a brain aneurysm that we discovered too late. It burst the second day she was here. The husband was upset but that almost a year ago."

"House tends to rub people the wrong way," Wilson sighed.

"But to wait so long and then do something so horrible," she sighed. "I hope Doctor Cuddy is going to overhaul the security in this place."

Wilson shrugged.

"Where are the others?" she asked.

"Cameron went to get some coffee and I sent Kutner and Amber home," he told her.

"Amber likes you," Reilly told him.

Wilson smiled. "I like her."

"You better be talking about Cutthroat Bitch," House rasped. "Cameron and Reilly are off limits to you."

Reilly jumped up and stood by his bed. She took his hand. "How are you feeling?" she asked.

"My gut hurts and my neck is killing me but my leg doesn't hurt," he told her with a small smile.

"The ketamine," she breathed. "It worked, didn't it?"

"What about the ketamine?" Wilson asked as he moved to stand beside her.

"It's been used in Germany on patients suffering chronic pain," Reilly told him. "Greg showed me the article. The brain basically reboots itself. But, there's a fifty percent chance the pain can return."

"Water," House rasped.

Wilson poured some in a cup, stuck a straw in it and handed it to Reilly. Then he helped House sit up while she held the straw to House's mouth. He took a few sips and closed his eyes.

"And there's a fifty percent chance it won't," he whispered.

Cameron came in with two paper cups. House opened his eyes and looked at her.

"We broke up," he said. "You should be at home."

"Just because we're no longer dating doesn't mean I stopped caring about you," she told him. She put the cups of coffee on the table beside his bed and leaned down to kiss his cheek. "How are you feeling?" she asked.

"Like I got shot twice," he joked weakly. "Otherwise not too bad. So, go home. I'll still be here tomorrow."

She smiled and stroked his hair. Standing up, she looked at Reilly and Wilson.

"Call me if you need me," she told them.

Both nodded at her and she kissed House again before walking out.

"Go home, Wilson," House told him.

"You sure?" he asked.

House nodded and closed his eyes. Once Wilson was gone, he opened them again and looked at Reilly. "Can you stay with me?"

"I already called the girls. They're going to spend the night with friends."

"Good," he sighed and drifted off to sleep.

Reilly went down to the locker room, showered and changed into scrubs and the running shoes she kept in her locker. Then she went back up to the ICU and sat down beside House's bed.

The next morning House awoke to find Reilly gone. He groaned as he slowly pushed himself up to look out the door and large glass windows of his room. She stood in the hallway talking to two women in dark pantsuits. One had dark hair pulled back in a ponytail and the other had dirty blonde hair twisted in a knot on the back of her head. The brunette wrote in a notebook as Reilly gestured emphatically. He carefully eased back until he was lying down and buzzed for a nurse. A grimace creased his face when Nurse Bitch walked in. Her name was Brenda but House called her Nurse Bitch because she butted heads with him constantly and had the nerve to snap back at him when he snapped at her.

"What?" she asked folding her arms. She raised one eyebrow and looked at him dispassionately.

"Who's out there with Doctor McGrath?" he asked.

"Police. They're talking to your flying monkeys about your shooting," she said.

His lip curled. "The Wicked Witch was a woman. If you're going to insult me, get your genders right. Besides, I thought you liked Doctor McGrath."

Brenda just stared at him.

"When do I get breakfast?" he asked.

"Tomorrow morning."

"What kind of fucked up diet have I been put on? I'm recovering from surgery not a heart attack!"

"The kind where you get dinner in two hours," she informed him with saccharine sweetness. "You've been out of the past two days."

House raised his hand and rubbed his fingers along his beard. "Has Reilly been here the whole time?" he asked.

"Yep, though I'll never understand why," she replied. "Doctor Cameron and Doctor Wilson have also been in here most of the time. Your other two minions come and go." She turned and started to walk away. "Oh, and you've been sleeping not sedated." She marched up the steps to the nurses' observation room.

The two detectives in the hallway nodded at Reilly and House watched as she entered the room. She smiled when she saw he was awake.

"Well, welcome back Rip Van Winkle," she said. She sat down in one of the chairs beside his bed. "How are you feeling?"

"Hungry," he told her. He jerked his chin in the direction of the hallway. "What did The Bobbsey Twins want?"

"Information about your shooting. His name is Jack Moriarty," she began.

"Moriarty?" House asked incredulously. "You made that up."

She shook her head and held her right hand up. "Hand to God. That's his real name. His wife was a patient of ours about a year ago. She's the one who died from the burst brain aneurysm. He's trying to charge both Larry and Amber for assault. Between the two of them they broke his nose, both cheekbones, his jaw and and knocked out about eight teeth."

"You must be exhausted," he commented.

She shrugged. "I'm fine," she told him looking down at her hands.

"Liar," he accused mildly. "You always use the correct medical terminology. Since you're not, that tells me you haven't slept."

She sighed and rolled her eyes. "Well, obviously you're feeling better."

"Actually, I am. Morphine is a beautiful thing."

"Are you hungry?" she asked. "I could get you something from a vending machine or the cafeteria."

"I hallucinated."

She went still. The words seemed to hang in the air between them.

"Did you hear what I said?" he asked.

"When did you hallucinate?"

"Right after that bastard Moriarty shot me but before I came to in the emergency room. I still can't believe that's the fucker's name."

"Well it is. It was a good Irish name until Doyle used it in his books," she told him. Her face grew serious. "What did you hallucinate?" she asked again.

"About our last patient, Big Tongue Guy. About Moriarity." His voice grew soft. "About Cuddy using ketamine instead of anesthesia for my surgery. Seducing Cameron with the surgical robot. About all the bad choices I've made."

Reilly leaned forward and put her hand on his chest. She looked into his eyes. "That robot thing sounds so damn hot," she said with a serious look on her face and a glint in her eyes. "Did you use the blade to cut the buttons off her shirt?"

He started to laugh and then clutched his side. "Ow. Don't make me laugh. It hurts." He put his hand over hers. "I haven't been sleeping for the past two days, have I?" he asked her.

She shrugged. "No," she sighed. "I mixed together a little cocktail and injected it into your IV so you wouldn't have to go through opioid withdrawal. Are you mad at me?"

He smiled and squeezed her hand. "Thank you."

"Um, James and Allison and I were talking," she told him.

"Always a very dangerous thing," he teased.

"James is going to move back in with you," she told him. "Oh, and you're a manipulative jerk, by the way. When he's working, either Allison or I will come stay with you. Allison volunteered to take the night shifts. You're going to need about eight weeks of rehab but I'm sure you'll be cleared to resume your no strings attached sexual thing with her sooner."

He shook his head and smiled. "You know me entirely too well. I don't think I like it very much."

She pulled her hand free and pointed to the door with an innocent look on her face. "I can leave. I've been offered positions at about four other hospitals."

"You're not going anywhere," he told her with a laugh. "Why don't you go get me a candy bar?"

She stood, dropped a kiss on his forehead and left. He tilted his head slightly to the right as he watched her leave.


	30. Chapter 30

2007

Inside, the apartment was quiet. Outside, a few cars drove past. Moonlight filtered in through the curtains casting a silvery wash of light over the living room. The air conditioner clicked on and cool air flowed out.

"WILSON!"

Wilson gasped, jerked upright and winced as pain shot through his back.

"WILSON!" House shouted again.

Wilson growled low in this throat. Throwing back the sheet and blanket that covered him, he swung his feet off the couch. This was now the fifth time House woke him since he went to sleep. He got up and stomped down the hallway to House's bedroom. He flung the door open and stood in the doorway scowling, his feet planted wide and his fists clenched.

"What?" he snarled. "What do you want now?"

House sat in bed with the pillows propped up behind his back. He looked at Wilson over the top of his reading glasses and closed the book he'd been reading.

"I'm bored," House told him. "Bring the television in here."

Wilson spun on his heel. A few minutes later the front door opened and then slammed closed.

"Wilson?" House called out. He reached for the phone and dialed a number. "'Lo?" Reilly answered.

"Wilson ran away."

"No, he didn't. But he will if you don't stop waking him up," she yawned. "I will, too, if you don't start sleeping at night like all the other normal people."

"I'm bored," he whined.

"Read a book."

"I did. I asked Wilson to bring the TV in here and he left."

"Oh, Jesus, Greg," Reilly sighed. "You have only been out of the hospital for two days and already you're causing mischief and mayhem."

"Come over and we'll watch TV together," he told her. "Just like we did when we were in college."

"I can't leave the girls."

"Bring them."

"No. They're asleep like you should be. James probably went to the all-night pharmacy to get you some sleeping pills."

"The Vicodin helped me sleep," he replied.

"Well, you're the one who refused any pain meds," she reminded him. "Which makes me think you rattled your brains when you got shot."

"I'm not in much pain. Besides, they wouldn't give me any of the really cool drugs."

"Poor you."

"Do you really think Wilson went to score me some drugs?"

"Well, he is your dealer, right?" she laughed.

"Seriously, come over," he replied all teasing gone from his voice.

"Do you want to come stay here?" she asked.

"What if I want to have a sleepover with Cameron?"

She sighed. "There's a guest room downstairs with an attached bathroom. And I had most of the house sound proofed before we moved in. Teenage girls can get noisy and rowdy and Mama needs her sleep."

"Come get me," he begged.

"No," she said firmly. "Allison can bring you over when she gets there in the morning. Or later this morning," she amended.

"Fine," House told her.

"I'm going to hang up," she told him.

"Thank you," he said softly and sincerely.

"You belong to me," she reminded him and then hung up.

House sat staring at the phone. The dial tone droned and he clicked it off. He set it on his night stand and carefully got out of bed. He made his way to the bathroom and turned on the water in the tub. While the tub filled with hot water, he stripped his t-shirt and pajama bottoms off. He gripped the pipe leading up to the shower head and carefully got into the tub. Once the water reached his chest, he leaned forward and shut it off. Then he laid back and let the hot water relax his tense muscles. A few minutes later, he heard the front door open and close. Footsteps sounded on the hardwood floor. Wilson walked into the bathroom carrying a pharmacy bag. He held it up and then put it on the sink.

"Sleeping pills," he told House. "Take one and go to sleep."

"I called Reilly."

"House, you can't keep calling her every time you get bored," Wilson sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose.

"I'm going to stay at her house until I can go back to work. You're free after tonight."

Wilson closed his eyes and House could see color begin to flood his cheeks.

"Why didn't you say you wanted to stay with her?" he asked through clenched teeth.

House splashed some water up onto his shoulders. "Didn't know I wanted to until tonight. Besides, she's nicer than you."

Wilson shook his head and went back out to the living room.

House stayed with Reilly and her daughters for ten weeks. She rearranged her schedule at the hospital so that she was home with him during the day while Cameron was with him at night. Reilly made him do his physical therapy each day. They all went for a walk every evening after dinner before she left for the hospital. House enjoyed the leisurely strolls as the sun slowly made its way down to the horizon. He got to know Sarah and Jenny and discovered that he actually liked them. They were both so much like Reilly that he found it easy to talk to them. They also played video games with him and he helped them with their homework. They enjoyed having Cameron with them at night. They didn't seem bothered by the fact she slept in House's room.

One morning in early September, House returned to work. Thanks to the daily physical therapy, he learned to compensate for the missing muscle in his right leg. For the first time in years, he walked into the hospital without his cane. He wore a dark blue suit, crisp white shirt and comfortable black loafers. His hair was neatly combed and his beard trimmed. The lack of pain smoothed his face and he nodded at people as he made his way to the elevator.

When he arrived on the fourth floor, he exited the elevator and stopped. He could see the sunlight streaming in from the Diagnostics conference room. Shadows moved across the floor and staff members gave him curious looks as they passed him. His breathing quickened, his heart started to pound, and he felt light headed. Reaching back, he gripped the edges of the elevator for support. Lowering his head, he tried to control his breathing. He heard footsteps hurrying toward him. Reilly's hands gently touched his waist. Lifting his head, he looked into her eyes. He could see each freckle on her fair skin. He could count each dark eyelash and see the subtle makeup she wore. The scent of citrus tickled his nose. He breathed in her scent and felt his breathing and heart rate slow.

"You okay?" she breathed and he could smell the minty scent of her toothpaste.

He nodded and stood up straight. She released him and he let go of the elevator. She stepped to one side and they walked toward the conference room. Kutner, Volakis, and Cameron looked up when they walked in.

"Morning, House," Volakis said.

"CB," House replied. "Have you gutted Wilson and implanted your eggs in his carcass yet?"

She smiled thinly. "I thought I'd do that this weekend."

"Hey!" Kutner smiled. "You look great. How are you feeling?"

"Fine," House responded. He looked at the whiteboard. Two patient's names along with their symptoms were written neatly on it. He walked over and picked up one of the files on table.

"Let's start with Yoga Girl and then move on to Brain Cancer Guy," he told them. Reilly and Cameron exchanged a smile. "I saw that," he remarked.

They all sat down at the table and picked up Caryn's file.

"Caryn was doing an inverted yoga pose and collapsed. X-rays show no spinal injury and she's hot," Volakis told him.

House looked up, smiled and pointed at her. "Nice try, CB. But I will not be sucked into your dark vortex of evil." He closed the file. "Redo all her tests. I want to know if the problem is in her spine or her limbs. Do an EMG." Sitting down, he picked up another file and began reading it. Kutner got up and walked out of the room.

"Brain Cancer Guy tried to kill himself by driving his wheelchair into a pool." he muttered.

"Welcome back," Wilson said as he walked in. House flicked a glance at him and went back to reading the file.

"He's got fluid in his lungs," House commented as Wilson walked over to the coffee maker and poured himself a cup of coffee.

"Probably water from the pool," Wilson commented and took a sip of his coffee.

"Give him an O2 mask," House ordered. "And set him up for surgery. His leg muscles have atrophied. His tendons are probably shortened from disuse causing severe pain. Tendon surgery will make him more comfortable." He looked at Reilly. "You wanna do that?"

"Sure," she told him. She nodded at Volakis who got up and left to get everything set up.

"Comfortable?" Wilson asked. "You want to make him comfortable? Who are you and what did you do with House?"

House closed the file and leaned back in his chair. "I'm not acting like myself because I want to make a patient comfortable?"

"Well," Wilson replied. "Yeah. You've never cared about anyone's comfort before."

"Maybe I've changed."

"No you haven't."

House shrugged and got up to pour some coffee into his red mug. He added a generous amount of sugar and Cameron handed him a coffee stirrer. He stirred the steaming brew and took a sip. He looked over at the area where he landed when he was shot. There was no blood stain.

"Cuddy had the carpet replaced last month," she told him.

"Good," he told her and walked toward his office.

Wilson and Cameron exchanged a look and then turned toward Reilly.

"I'll go talk to him," she told them.

She walked into his office and closed the blinds then locked the doors. House looked up at her in surprise. She crossed the office and sank down in his lounger. He leaned his elbows on his desk.

"They send you in here to find out why I suddenly care whether a patient is comfortable?" he asked.

She nodded.

"But you're not going to do that."

She shook her head and closed her eyes. "I'm going to take a nap for about an hour and then we'll go back out there and tell them you really have changed."

"Works for me," he told her and turned back to his Sudoku puzzle on his computer.

By the end of the day, House diagnosed Caryn with scurvy but still wasn't any closer to a diagnosis on Richard, the patient with brain cancer. He went home to his apartment and changed into running clothes. Picking up his iPod and keys, he went for a run. Soon, he was nearing the university and was drenched in sweat. He saw a fountain and jumped into it dousing himself with water. As the cool water flowed over him, he stood still. He splashed out of the fountain and ran toward Cuddy's house. He climbed up a trellis and onto her roof. Once he found her bedroom window, he knocked on it. A light flooded the room and he watched Cuddy get out of bed and walk over to the window. Her hair was tousled, her face was free of makeup and she wore a pale blue nightgown. The light shone through the thin fabric of her gown outlining her body. House was immediately reminded of that night at the party in college. An image of her writing in pleasure and moaning his name flashed through his head. Heat rose in him as she opened the window and leaned out.

"What?" she asked sleepily. "And why are you wet?"

"Figured out what's wrong with Brain Cancer Guy," he told her. "Circumventricular system sends cytokines, releasing the early stages of the immune response but CDOS releases prostaglandins that reset the hypothalamic set point upward, unless it's countered by antipyretic therapy. The suicide attempt was not a suicide attempt; he drove that wheelchair into the pool because he couldn't regulate his body temperature. He had hypothalamic dysregulation."

"And you figured this out…"

"By jumping in the university fountain. I can cure him. He just needs cortisol."

"That is not a diagnosis," she told him. "That is a hunch. I'm not letting you treat him based on a hunch." She started to close the window.

"I can cure him!"

"Cortisol does not regenerate brain tissue," she snapped.

"He's got Addison's disease," House told her. "If the scar tissue on his hypothalamus is resting against the pituitary, the adrenals would shut down."

"You're high," she laughed incredulously.

He shook his head. "No. I haven't taken any drugs since I was released from the hospital."

She leaned out the window and looked him in the eye. "This is as high as you get. You get to solve a massive medical puzzle with a simple injection. Go home, House. We've discussed this already. You've made him comfortable. His temperature is normal. I'm not going to risk a lawsuit because you jumped in the water."

He grabbed her hand. "There is no risk. If I'm wrong, no big deal. If I'm right, he gets his life back."

She pulled her hand free. "Go home, House." She shut the window, walked back to her bed, got in it and turned off the light.

House shook his head and climbed down off her roof. Slowly he made his way home.

The next morning, Cuddy called Wilson into her office. "Has House talked to you?" she asked.

"No, why?"

She sighed. "He came to my house last night, well actually he climbed on my roof, and said his patient has Addison's. All he needs is a shot of cortisol and he'll be able to function again."

"He needs to learn to understand the word no," Wilson told her. "He's going to end up killing a patient."

Cuddy shook her head. "What if he's right? He's right so often."

"And what if he's not? How did he come to the conclusion the patient has Addison's?"

"Apparently he went for a run last night, got hot and jumped in the university fountain to cool off," she told him.

"So, he has no medical basis for this diagnosis?" Wilson asked. "Did he run tests?"

Cuddy shook her head. "No."

"You were right to tell him no," Wilson told her.

"Explain to me again why you aren't giving him the cortisol." Reilly said. She and House were sitting in his office. Sunlight slanted through the window and fell across her face illuminating the frown lines between her dark brows. House concentrated on the Sudoku puzzle on his computer.

"Cuddy said no," he responded. He shrugged. "She was right to say no. I have no medical basis for the diagnosis."

"So, we test him!"

"Just give it up, Reilly. I have. I discharged him. He's leaving now."

She stood up and shoved her hands into the pockets of the black pants she wore. "This is bullshit," she told him and left his office


	31. Chapter 31

2007

Reilly sat on a bench outside the hospital room of their patient, Richard. His wife and son were talking to one of the nurses who pushed him in a wheelchair. She reached into her lab coat pocket and grasped the syringe of cortisol. Pulling it out, she got up and walked over to Richard. She smiled at his wife, Arlene.

"I just want to give him a little shot before he goes," Reilly told her. "It's cortisol. It will keep him from overheating." She pulled up the sleeve of his shirt, rubbed his arm with an alcohol swab and injected him. Letting his sleeve fall back into place, she stood back and looked at him. He continued to stare off into space.

"Call us if you need anything," Reilly told her with a forced smile. House was wrong. She felt as if her heart shattered in her chest. Arlene smiled and said something she didn't hear but nodded.

Arlene pushed the button for the elevator when Richard gasped and jerked in the chair. His wife, son and several nurses converged on him. Reilly pushed past them and pulled out her penlight to look into his eyes. He blinked rapidly at the brightness. She looked down and saw his hands fumbling with the waist strap on his wheelchair. He unlatched it and tried to push himself up.

"Arlene," he rasped.

A sob escaped his wife as she hugged him. He held her and tried to stand. His son grabbed him and helped him to his feet. Richard reached out and pulled his son close.

Reilly stared in disbelief. Arlene looked at her over her husband's shoulder.

"Thank you! Thank you!" she sobbed.

Reilly nodded and turned on her heel. She nearly ran into Cameron. Cameron grasped her shoulders to steady her. Reilly looked at her in surprise.

"What are you doing here?" she asked.

Cameron smiled thinly and pulled a syringe out of her lab pocket. "House came to my apartment early this morning. He was soaking wet. Told me about the cortisol. I was coming to administer a dose."

"Let's go see those two manipulative doctors who think they know what's best for our Greg," Reilly told her.

"What do you mean we can't tell him?" Reilly shouted.

She and Cameron stood in Cuddy's office facing her and Wilson.

"He's not God!" Cuddy shouted back. "He came up with that diagnosis by jumping in a fountain! There was no medical basis at all! Next time he could kill a patient!"

"He has to learn," Wilson told them.

Reilly stared at them in disgust. "And who are you two to teach him? He's smarter than both of you. And he's a better doctor."

She spun on her heel and slammed out of Cuddy's office. Cameron looked over her shoulder and then back at Wilson and Cuddy. "You better hope she doesn't quit because if she does, House will."

She left the two of them and quietly closed the door.

"I'm going to write McGrath up," Cuddy seethed. "She gave a patient an unauthorized treatment. She should be fired. House won't leave. No one else will hire him."

Wilson sighed. "He's had offers from about ten other hospitals. He turned them down because he wants to work with Reilly and he likes his team. Maybe we shouldn't upset the balance. PPTH has the only Diagnostics department in the country. House and his team are known worldwide. They all have their pick of jobs if they left. And if House and Reilly left, so would they. His department keeps this hospital in the black with all the donations from grateful patients and their families."

Cuddy sank down behind her desk. "I know. But I can't let her get away with it. She'll tell House." She stared at her desk. "Maybe she should. I wasn't comfortable keeping it from him." She pulled a syringe out of her lab coat pocket.

"So, you were going to try it, too?"

She nodded. "Reilly just beat me to it." Putting the syringe on her desk, she looked at Wilson. "What now?"

Wilson shrugged. "I don't know."

Reilly stomped into the office she shared with House.

"I gave Brain Cancer Guy the cortisol!" she ground out. "It worked. But those two Machiavellian assholes didn't want you to know. He's not God!" she mocked in a perfect imitation of Cuddy. "They say you have to learn. And I'm probably going to get fired for doing it."

"I was right," House breathed. Then he looked up at Reilly. "She fires you and I quit."

Cameron walked in. "So will I."

Wilson walked in and looked at Reilly. "Cuddy won't go to the board or write you up."

"How nice of her to send her flying monkey to deliver the news," House sneered.

Wilson looked at him. "One of these days you're going to kill a patient."

Reilly walked up to him until they were nose to nose. "You just don't know when to quit, do you?" she sneered. "You always were jealous of my relationship with Greg. Is that why you cheated on me, Doug? Because you thought I was cheating on you with Greg?"

"I'm not Doug," Wilson said softly.

Reilly shook her head. Her tongue darted out and wet her lips. "I didn't say you were."

House walked up behind her and gently turned her to face him. "You called him Doug," he told her.

She pulled free and ran from the office. House started to follow her but Cameron grasped his arm.

"I'll go after her," she said softly and left.

House steadied himself on the edge of the door. "Get out, Wilson."

Wilson slipped past him and left.


	32. Chapter 32

2007

House went straight to his apartment and got undressed. He pulled on running shorts and an old navy blue t-shirt. Then he went out to the living room, unplugged the phone, grabbed a bottle of Maker's Mark off his desk and sat down on the couch. He picked up the remote, turned the television on and opened the bottle of scotch. A glass sat on the coffee table. He leaned forward and poured about five fingers worth of the amber liquid into it. Lifting the glass, he drained it. He grimaced as the alcohol burned its way down his throat. Then he sighed as the fire dulled to a soothing warmth. He leaned back, put his feet up on the coffee table and focused on the television. He spent the rest of the day drinking, watching television and ordering take out. By midnight, he was snoring as the television droned loudly. He jerked awake when someone touched his shoulder. He turned his head, rubbed his eyes and looked at Cameron. She sat beside him on the couch.

"You aren't answering your phone," she said with concern. Reaching out, she smoothed back his hair. "What's going on?"

"I was right and Reilly nearly lost her job proving it." He shook his head. "It's what she's always done."

Cameron sighed.

"I know," she told him. "I found her and we talked. She hates seeing you conform. She said you never conformed and that's what she admires most about you. You're rude and abrasive but you do what you do because it's the right thing to do. You save more patients by doing those risky, insane things. Something in Reilly snapped when you were shot. I got her to agree to see a psychiatrist. Between her divorce and nearly losing you, she's been pushed over the edge."

House looked at her then looked away. "She was always the strong one. The one who took care of me; watched out for me; protected me. When she came back after Smug cheated on her and they got divorced, I wasn't there for her. I've always expected her to be strong. I've been so wrapped up in my own misery and then finally being pain free that I didn't hold up my part in things. I'm an ass."

"Yeah, you are," she agreed.

He looked at her in disbelief. "You're not supposed to agree with me," he complained.

She smiled. "Hard to disagree with the truth."

"Why are you here?" he asked in mock annoyance.

"We have a patient, Kyle Wasniak. He's been having seizures all day and now his liver is failing. He's an alcoholic but it isn't the alcohol that's causing it to fail. We don't know what's wrong with him. Amber did a search for any relatives and his father, Gabe, is at the hospital already. He's in a persistent vegetative state."

House pushed himself up from the couch and went into his bedroom. Cameron followed him and leaned against the door frame. He stripped off his shorts and t-shirt. Grabbing a t-shirt, blazer and jeans, he dressed quickly.

"Grab me a pair of socks," he told Cameron.

She went to the dresser, opened a drawer and pulled out a pair of soft, gray socks. She handed them to him and he sat on the bed to pull them on. She grabbed a pair of his Nike Shox and handed those to him. Once he was dressed, he pushed her toward the door..

"Let's go," he told her.

When they arrived at the Diagnostics office, everyone, including Wilson was sitting around the table. Symptoms were written on the whiteboard and everyone except Wilson was reading patient files. Reilly sat at the opposite end of the table from Wilson.

House looked at Volakis. "Tell me about Vegetative State Guy."

She told him everything she knew. When she finished he nodded.

"Get an EEG," he told Kutner.

Kutner stood and then looked at House in confusion. "Where is he?"

"I'll take you," Volakis told him.

When they left, House looked at Wilson. "Are you here as Cuddy's spy?"

Wilson shook his head. He looked at Reilly. Then he looked back at House. "I'm sorry for manipulating you. I never should have done it. But I was trying to help." He sighed. "I never thought how all that would affect Reilly. You just do so many insane things. I didn't want you to implode yourself or your career."

"Yes," House told him. "I'm sure you thought your motives were pure and noble. But, since you helped break Reilly, you get to take her place on the team until we solve this case."

"I do have my own patients, you know," Wilson reminded him.

"I also you know you have a bigger staff than I do so pawn them off on one of your lackeys until the kid is cured or dies."

"Fine," Wilson sighed in defeat.

"Um, I am in the room," Reilly stated. "I'm working this case." Her beeper went off and she pulled it out. Looking at it, she shook her head. "Kyle's in a coma," she told them.

House nodded and left. Wilson followed him down to the pharmacy. He stood behind House as he rummaged through the bins of drugs. Finally, he pulled out a vial.

"What are you going to do with the L-dopa?" Wilson asked.

"I need answers," House told him.

"Oh, shit," Wilson sighed. "You're going to try to wake the dad."

House hopped over the counter and headed for the basement. Wilson ran to keep up with him.

"You don't even know if that will bring the father out of his coma," he told House.

"Not a coma. He's in a vegetative state, remember?" House replied as he bounded down the stairs to the basement.

"I'm calling Cuddy," Wilson told him as he pulled out his cell phone.

"Great," House told him as he pushed open the door to the coma ward. "The more the merrier."

When Cuddy arrived, House stood next to Gabe's bed watching him closely. Cameron, Wilson, Volakis, Kutner and Reilly stood against the wall across from Gabe's bed. She turned to look at them.

"None of you thought to stop him?" Cuddy asked in exasperation.

"We weren't here," Volakis told her. She looked at Wilson. "Well, he was."

"After I called you, he'd already injected the patient," Wilson told her.

"House!" she said sharply as she walked over to him. "House! Look at me!"

Slowly he turned to look at her. "Yes?"

"We do not experiment on helpless patients," she told him.

"Oh, what's it's going to hurt? He hasn't even responded yet. The worst that could happen is I could get sued. I get sued all the time."

"You'll be torturing him and his family, House!" she told him sternly. "Even if it works he might be awake for two days at the most."

"Well, that's two more days than he would have otherwise," House responded turning his attention back to Gabe.

"I want this patient monitored-" Cuddy began.

"God, I'm starving," Gabe said rising up on his elbows. "Any way I could get a steak?"

"Do you know your name?" Reilly asked stepping forward until she stood at the end of the bed.

"Gabriel Wasniack," he replied. ""Do I know you?"

"Do you know where you are?" House asked.

"A hospital. I'm not sure which one."

"Do you know what five and seven are?" he asked.

"Twelve. Which is also half of twenty-four-"

"Yeah, yeah, yeah," House interrupted. "Any family history of seizures?"

Gabe shook his head. "No."

"Liver disease?"

"No. Look, how long have I been here? I feel like it's been a long time." Gabe looked at Reilly.

"Ten years," she responded. "What do you remember?"

"I remember the house fire," he began slowly. "I got my son out and went back in for my wife. She'd taken a sleeping pill." He stopped and frowned. "She's dead, isn't she?"

Reilly looked at him with compassion. "Yes," she told him. "But, your son is upstairs in a coma. We don't know what's wrong with him."

"How about that steak?" Gabe asked looking over at House and ignoring her.

Wilson pulled his car up to the sidewalk outside the hospital. House came out wearing his dark wool coat with the mismatched buttons and a grey driving cap. Gabe walked beside him wearing a dark suit, white shirt and black dress shoes. Wilson got out of the car. "This is a very bad idea," he told them as they approached the car.

"I'll drive," Gabe told him snatching the keys from Wilson's hand.

"We have to go to Atlantic City and get him a hoagie. It's the only way he'd agree to answer my questions," House said as he opened the passenger door and slid in.

Wilson opened the back door and slipped into the back seat.

Gabe picked up Wilson's iPod and looked at them. "What's an ip od?" he asked.

"Just drive," House told him.

Gabe started the engine and put the car in gear.

"This is a very bad idea, House," Wilson said again from the back seat. "He's been in a vegetative state for ten years."

"Yes, but he's filled to the brim with L-dopa. He's got the reflexes of a ninja right now." He turned to Gabe. "So, let's talk about toxic exposure."

"No. I get to ask a question first," Gabe told him.

House sighed loudly. Wilson leaned forward.

"What's going on?" he asked House. "How come he gets to ask you a question?"

"It's part of our deal," Gabe told him. "I get to ask him one question for every question he asks me."

Wilson's eyebrows arched upward in surprise. "And you agreed to this?"

"It was the only way to get him to talk," House replied in a bored tone. "That and a sandwich. Apparently the steak from the cafeteria wasn't up to his exacting standards."

"What is up with you two?" Gabe asked.

"He's a manipulative bitch who tries to change me which resulted in Reilly trying to clock him. Good times. Now-"

"Why do you care about House?" Wilson asked from the back seat cutting House off.

"No!" House groaned. "Do not side track him with your Jedi mind tricks!"

"Before the fire," Gabe answered. "I owned a boat factory. I was a powerful man. Now the only power I have is the power to annoy him."

Wilson nodded and smiled. "I like him," he told House.

They drove through the dark streets outside Atlantic City.

"I know it's here somewhere," Gabe muttered as he leaned over the steering wheel looking at street signs.

House's cell phone rang. He flipped it open and hit the speakerphone button. "House's House of Whining," he said. "State your complaint."

"Kyle's liver isn't the problem," Reilly said. "It's his heart. We did an Echo. He needs a new heart."

Silence descended on the car.

"You still there?" Reilly asked. Gabe reached out and flipped the phone closed.

"Let's go to one of the hotel casinos," he said.

House's phone rang again and he flipped it open. Again, he tapped the button to put it on speakerphone.

"What did your son do that was so horrible that you have to run away from him?" Reilly demanded.

Gabe stared straight ahead and continued to drive.

"Gabe!" she called out.

"I'll call you back," House told her and snapped the phone shut. "Fine, we'll go to a hotel casino but when we get there you tell me how each member of Kyle's family died. Then you can ask me anything. I don't care how personal or soul destroying it is, I'll answer it."

"Deal," Gabe told him.

"And you tell Reilly why you're running away from your dying son," Wilson added. "You owe her that much."

Gabe's mouth tightened but he nodded.

When they arrived at the hotel and checked into a suite, Wilson called room service to order a sandwich for Gabe and House began asking questions. Gabe answered them all. Finally, he sat back.

"Hey, Wilson," he said. "Toss me a beer."

Wilson picked up a can of beer and threw it underhanded to Gabe. Gabe held up his hand but the can bounced off his palm.

House looked at him speculatively. "The drug's wearing off. So, ask your question."

"Are you in love with Reilly?" Gabe asked. "Your voice changes when you talk to her. So does your face. You're probably not even aware of it."

House smiled. "No," he told him. "That was your big question?"

"You do love her," Gabe stated. "Which means you are capable of love. Capable of compassion. Yet you act like you don't care. Interesting."

House looked down. "I love her but she's….I don't want to ruin what we have," he finally said. "I need her. I need her in my life." He looked up at Gabe. "What happened the night of the fire?"

Gabe rolled his eyes and shook his head.

"Yeah, yeah, it's an emotional, stressful question," House told him. "Man up and answer it."

"On Christmas Eve, my wife took a sleeping pill and went to bed. Kyle decided to make popcorn in the fireplace. He managed to knock loose some tinder. The wrapping paper caught on fire. It spread so fast. I got Kyle out. When I went back in for…"

"You're blaming a twelve year old for an accident?" Wilson asked in shock.

"NO!" Gabe shouted. "I know it was an accident."

"Then what the hell are we doing here?" Wilson shot back.

"Because it wouldn't matter!" he shouted as he got up and began to pace. "I failed to keep my family safe! I couldn't stop the fire! I couldn't save my wife! Now you want me to stick around watching while I fail to save my son?!" He glared at House. "Thank you so much for waking me up!"

"How did he dislodge the tinder?" House asked calmly.

Gabe laughed in disbelief and sat down. "The popcorn basket was too heavy for him and he dropped it. He told me it was too heavy but I didn't listen."

"And the other deaths in the family that weren't from natural causes, were they at night, too?" he asked.

Gabe nodded.

"Ragged Red Fiber. It's an inherited condition," House told him. "Dropping things, muscle weakness, poor night-vision. These people seem uncoordinated and accident-prone. Careless. It's transmitted in mitochondrial DNA, so it only passes through the mother. Your wife's family weren't drunks, they were sick."

"But Ragged Red Fiber wouldn't affect his liver," Wilson told him.

House shrugged. "The kid thought he killed his mom and turned his dad into a vegetable. That would drive pretty much anyone to drink." He picked up his phone and called Reilly. He filled her in and told her to test for Ragged Red Fiber. She called back thirty minutes later and told him he was right.

"It doesn't matter, though," she told him. "Kyle needs a heart transplant. He's an alcoholic, though. No way he gets one."

"I want to give him my heart," Gabe announced.

"They kinda frown on live people donating their hearts," House told him. "Of course, you'll go back to being a vegetable…"

"House!" Wilson said in shock.

"Go downstairs and set up an alibi for you and House," Gabe told him. "Look, my life is over. You said that ragged thing is passed on from the mother. My heart is fine and I want him to have it. Even if they found a cure for me, what would it matter if I don't have my son? Besides, he hasn't really had me for ten years now. I've been as good as dead. I want to help him."

Wilson sighed and left.

House was sitting in the hallway when he returned.

"Is he…?" Wilson asked softly.

House nodded.

House and Reilly stood in the operating room observation deck. Below them , the transplant team was transferring Gabe's heart into Kyle. The door opened and Cuddy walked in.

"Got the tox screen back on the dad," she commented. "Turns out he had massive amounts of aspirin in his system. Basically a whole bottle. It's a good thing since it protected the heart."

"I guess he had a really bad headache," House told her.

"And you and Wilson were downstairs in the casino when he committed suicide?"

"Yep. Gabe wanted some time alone after Reilly told him about his son."

Cuddy sighed and left.

"She knows," Reilly told House.

"So? He left a suicide note. Her precious hospital and my ass are both covered."

"We'll not speak of it again."

They turned their attention back to the surgery going on below them.


	33. Chapter 33

**A/N: Thanks to fanfic55 and the two guests for your kind comments.**

2008

Cameron went to see House. She let herself into his apartment using the key he gave her. He was sprawled on the couch reading a medical journal. He looked up at her and sat up. Tossing the journal on the coffee table, he patted a spot on the couch. Cameron circled around the couch and sat down next to him.

"You met someone," he told her. "So, you're here to tell me our sexy times are over but you want to be friends."

She looked at him in shock. "How did you know?"

He shrugged. "I know you. You've been acting guilty for the past week and you haven't paid me any nocturnal visits. Is he normal?"

"Disgustingly so."

"He your age?"

She nodded. "He's a couple months older. He's actually Sarah's calculus teacher and soccer coach. I met him when I went to one of her games a couple weeks ago. He took over the team when her other coach retired."

"He want kids?" House asked.

"Yeah."

"So, how serious is it with Soccer Coach?" House asked.

"I really like him," she said. "He says he really likes me."

"You slept with him yet?"

"No, I wanted to talk to you first. And he's okay with taking things slow."

"That's good," he told her.

"Are you going to be okay?" she asked softly taking his hand in hers.

"Yeah," he assured her. "I can always hire a hooker if I get too lonely."

Leaning toward him, she kissed his cheek. "I'm going to miss you," she whispered.

"It's not like you're never going to see me," he chided lightly.

"You know what I mean."

He tilted his head. "Yeah."

Once she left, House called Reilly and asked her to come over. She arrived about thirty minutes later wearing an oversized t-shirt that he recognized as one he'd been missing for about twenty years, jeans with holes in the knees and battered sneakers. Her hair was piled on top of her head in a red-gold mass of curls.

"Hey," she said as she came in and shut the door. "What's going on?"

"You introduced Cameron to a normal guy," he accused as he looked at her from the couch.

"Yes, I did," she replied as she lifted his legs and sat down on the couch. He draped his legs over her lap and she began to massage his feet. "You two with that whole casual sex thing was keeping you from meeting people. She wants babies. Nate loves kids. Nate is incredibly normal."

"Nate sounds excruciatingly boring," House told her. "And what about me? I don't see you introducing me to any normal, boring, hot women."

"Because I think you should ask Doctor Cuddy out," she replied as she kneaded the arch of his left foot.

"Why?" he said as he closed his eyes. He began to relax. "You always did give the best foot massages."

"Because, you have that whole unfinished thing going on between you. She's not normal but you need to see where a relationship with her might go." She lifted his right foot and began to rub it.

"See," he told her and then groaned when she hit a knot in his arch. He lay still until she loosened it and his entire leg relaxed. He breathed out. "This is why you need to listen to hospital gossip. Cuddy is dating Don Herrick. He owns Eastern Lube. They met online. She's apparently very happy with him and vice versa. I could break them up…."

She looked at him with a raised eyebrow.

"You stole my shirt," he commented.

"Technically I borrowed it and forgot to give it back," she informed with an innocent look on her face. Then she grew serious. "You need to date someone."

"Why? Because society says we have to pair up?"

"So you can be happy."

"Then you need to date," he told her.

"No," she said shaking her head. "I pick the wrong men."

"True," House agreed and then yelled when she pinched his toe.

"But you, you have good taste in women for the most part," she said.

"Why because I dated Cameron?"

"Well, and you had that little dalliance with Niamh," she responded.

House smiled. "She definitely made watching the sheep that day more interesting.."

"She's coming to live with me for a while. She's going to attend Parsons School Of Design in Manhattan. She's going to study graphic design. She never married and she still asks about you."

House laid his head back on the arm of the couch and considered what she said. He like Niamh very much, they had enough in common that she wouldn't bore him and sex with her was very good.

"Does she want to go out with me?" he asked raising his head to look at Reilly.

She smiled and nodded. "I was going to talk to you about it on Friday night when you came over for dinner but you called today so…."

"When does she get here?" he asked.

"Beginning of June. She's taking one class this summer and starting full-time in the fall," she told him. "She'll be here a couple years, at least."

"That's more than a little while," he said.

She shrugged. "So, do you want to date her or not?"

"What does Niamh say about all this?" he asked.

"She's the one who wants me to find out if you're open to dating her." A sly smile crept across her face. "You obviously made a lasting impression on her."

"I am good at that," he replied with a smile. Then he shrugged. "Sure. Why not? It sounds like the perfect relationship. We like each other already, we know the sex is very good and there's an end date on it."

"Oh, you're so romantic. I may swoon," she said rolling her eyes.

In June, House rode with Reilly and her daughters to pick up Niamh at the airport. Sarah and Jenny were excited to see their great aunt. House found out that after the girls were born Reilly kept up the yearly tradition of going to visit her grandparents in Ireland each summer. However, since she came to work with him, they weren't able to go.

Reilly parked in the short term parking lot at LaGuardia. As they got out of the car, House looked at his watch.

"Her flight should be coming in right about now," he commented as they made their way to the main terminal.

"It's too bad we can't meet her at the gate," Sarah commented.

"We'll meet her at baggage claim," Reilly told her. "It's almost as good. Besides, you hate going through security."

"Ugh," Sarah groaned. "I hate taking off my shoes and walking on the nasty carpet."

House held out his hand for a high five and Sarah smacked it. "I hear you on that one," he told her.

"Well, at least you don't always get pulled out of line like Mom does," Jenny told them.

House looked at Reilly with a glint in his eyes. "So, you get the full body search?"

She looked at him with disgust. "It's not funny. I hate it."

"I'm sure groping you breaks up the tedium of the security guard's day."

The entered the main terminal and pushed through the crowds. Finally they made it to the baggage claim area for Niamh's flight.

"There she is!" Jenny exclaimed.

House turned and saw her. She'd changed very little since the last time he saw her. Her silky red curls were piled on top of her head, she wore slim fitting jeans, a brown and white striped top, brown high heeled sandals and she carried a large leather tote. She smiled when she saw them and quickened her pace. Sarah and Jenny ran to meet her. Niamh wrapped her free arm around them as they hugged her. Reilly and House walked up to her and House took her tote. The girls stood back as Reilly hugged her aunt.

"Oh," Niamh sighed as she held Reilly tightly. "I've missed ya and the girls."

Reilly kissed her cheek and then pulled away. "We've missed you."

Niamh's blue eyes gleamed when she saw House. "Greg," she smiled.

House moved forward and she cupped his face in her hands before kissing him deeply. He wrapped an arm around her and returned her kiss.

"I've missed ya," she whispered against his mouth. She pulled back and looked at Reilly. "Let's get my luggage and get back to yer place," she said with a smile.

House got Niamh's two large bags off the carousel. Sarah carried her tote bag while House and Reilly rolled her suitcases out to the car. Both girls walked beside Niamh chattering like two small birds. She laughed and held Jenny's hand. When they got to the car, House loaded her luggage in the trunk as the rest of them got into the car. He slammed the trunk closed and got into the passenger seat. Niamh sat in the back behind Reilly. House looked in the rearview mirror and their eyes met. Niamh smiled a slow, satisfied smile and then licked her lips. House smiled back. He was really looking forward to the next two years.

Niamh lived with Reilly until September and then moved in with House. He tried to give her the keys to his Dodge Dynasty so she could drive to the train station and back on the days she went into Manhattan for classes but she refused. She told him she had no problem taking the bus. She wouldn't have to walk far since the bus stop was at the end of his block. She also got a part-time job as a server at Sherry's, a local bar. House found living with her enjoyable. She was easy going and she was always ready for sex. She also helped him keep their apartment spotless. Like him, she didn't cook much but loved to order take away, as she called it. Coming home to find her sitting on the couch with her laptop working on a project made him happier than he'd been for years. They spent most of their time talking. Niamh was nearly as intelligent as Reilly and she kept up with current events. She read his medical journals and often discussed his cases with him.

Shortly before Christmas, the team got a new patient. Niamh was having lunch with them in the conference room when Cuddy walked in with the files. Niamh knew about House's and Cuddy's past but didn't feel threatened by the other woman. Cuddy, on the other hand, took an instant, inexplicable dislike to Niamh.

"Forty-five year old single mom," she said as she tossed the files on the table. "Intermittent numbness and paralysis of the arms."

"I take it she's been tested for the good drugs?" House asked.

"Tox screen is clean," Cuddy told him as she stared at Niamh.

"You keep givin' me the glad eye like that and I'll start thinkin' you like me," Niamh told her with a sly smile.

"Where is your visitor's pass?" Cuddy snapped at her.

"On me bag."

"You have to wear it on your shirt."

"This is a silk shirt that Greg bought me," Niamh told her. "I'll not be ruinin' it with one of those sticky little badges."

Cuddy narrowed her eyes. House stood up and walked between the two women.

"Well, thanks for coming all the way up here to bring us the files," House told Cuddy. "You can go now." He made shooing motions with his hands. Cuddy turned and left. Once she was gone, House sat back down.

"What's her problem?" Volakis asked.

"She broke up with her boyfriend," Kutner told her.

"Really?" Volakis asked with interest. "When?"

"A couple days ago."

"Well, I love a good giggle and gossip session as much as anyone but we have a patient," House told them.

Niamh rose and picked up her bag. "I'll see ya at home," she told him as she leaned down to give him a quick kiss.

House nodded and watched her leave. Once she was out of sight, he turned his attention back to the file.

"Let's do Secret Santa," Kutner blurted out.

"Oh, I like that idea," Reilly commented with a smile.

"Me, too," Cameron chimed in.

Cameron got up and pulled down one of the stockings hanging from the cabinet over the kitchenette sink. Reilly took a piece of paper and tore it into five pieces. Cameron sat down and laid the hat next to her. Reilly wrote everyone's names down on a slip of paper and folded each in half before putting them in the hat.

"Whoa!" House protested. "I'm the head of the department so I should get to write the names down."

Reilly shot him a dubious look. "No. I know you. You'd write your name down five times," she told him as held the bag out to Kutner.

Kutner pulled out a folded piece of paper, opened it and smiled. Reilly held the hat out to Volkis, Cameron and then House. He sighed dramatically and pulled out a slip of paper. He turned away from them and peeked at the name given to him. He bit back a smile. Turning back, he put his paper in his pocket.

"Okay, enough Yuletide cheer," he told them. "We've got a patient."

A few days later, snow fell outside the window of House's and Niamh's bedroom. Inside, she lay on her back, completely naked, as House kissed his way up the inside of her left leg. He lifted it and nuzzled and sucked the back of her knee. She always put a dab of her perfume behind each knee and the scent of it filled his head. She moaned softly. He worked his way up to her core and then began to lick and suck her clit. It swelled beneath his tongue and teeth. When she was writhing with pleasure, he moved over her and thrust into her. The sharp scent of her arousal surrounded him and he pumped in and out of her faster and harder. Soon, she cried out as her muscles clamped down on his cock. They pulsed along his hard length until his orgasm spiralled through him. He groaned her name and then fell onto the bed beside her. They lay panting for air. After a few minutes, Niamh sat up and pulled the blankets over them and rested her head on his shoulder. He put his arm around her and stroked her damp curls.

"Got a question for you," he said softly.

"Sure," she responded as she traced a pattern in his chest hair.

"Woman with the BRCA gene likes kids but doesn't want to have any because of the whole breast cancer thing," he told her. "So she meets a drug addict who is pregnant but doesn't want an abortion. Druggie gives the kid to the woman to raise."

"Probably was a good Catholic crackhead," Niamh responded. "So, what's yer question?"

"Would you tell the kid about her parentage or lie to her?"

She was silent for a while. House traced the bones in her spine while she thought.

"Well, if were me," she began. "I'd be tellin' the lass once she was old enough to unnderstan'. I told me own son about his dad when he was old enough. Gave him the choice to meet him or not. After all, we pass on our DNA to our wee ones. I just found out that all fetuses start out as females which I thought about telling Arden. It tickled me to think on it. I take it this is yer patient ye're talkin' about?"

House lay still beside her. She propped herself up on her elbow and stared down at him. She sighed and laid down with her head on his shoulder.

"Once you've hit that moment when ya dart out, let me know," she told him.

"I know what's wrong with my patient," he told her. Sitting up, he leaned over her and kissed her. "Thanks."

He got up, dressed quickly and left. Niamh rolled onto her side, buried her nose in his pillow and went to sleep.

He was waiting in Maggie's, the patient, room with her daughter, Jane, when the rest of the team arrived. He looked at Reilly.

"I injected her with the risperidone," he told her. "Ready to do your thing?"

"Yeah," she nodded. She handed him the syringe and began a very thorough examination of Maggie's body.

"What are you doing?" Maggie asked her.

"Looking for breast tissue," Reilly replied as she kneaded the area behind Maggie's right knee. "All fetuses start out as females with breast tissue covering most of it. As it develops, the breast tissue recedes to the chest area. Risperidone causes breast tissue to expand. Found it," she told House. He handed her an empty syringe.

"Are you saying I have breast cancer even though I no longer have breasts?" Maggie asked incredulously.

"Yep," House answered. "Just like the fact my girlfriend lives here but she's still Irish."

Reilly stood up and held out the syringe. It was filled with a milky liquid. "Risperidone also causes galactorrhea," she said.

Jane looked at the syringe with suspicion. "What is galac-gala-? What is that?" she finally asked.

"Breast milk," Reilly told her.

"Open your mouth," House told the girl.

"No way-" she began and Reilly squirted some of the liquid into her mouth. "Ewww!"

"Tastes sweet, doesn't it?" House smirked. "Like victory. We'll cut out your mom's tumor and start her on chemo. She'll be fine."

Reilly and the rest of the team followed him out of the room. "Time for Secret Santa," he told them. "Then I gotta get back home."

They all went up to the Diagnostics department. Everyone pulled out a gift.

"Ready?" House asked. "And go."

He handed a small neatly wrapped gift to Reilly. She handed a box to Kutner who handed one to Cameron. Cameron gave one to House and Kutner gave one to Volakis. Volkis handed the gift she held to Cameron.

They all tore into their gifts. House crowed with delight when he saw that Cameron got him the latest version of a GameBoy. Kutner smiled broadly as he opened the collector's edition of the Star Wars Trilogy.

"Wow," he grinned at Reilly. "You found the original versions."

"You like?" she asked.

He nodded happily.

Kutner got Volakis a soft, pale green cashmere sweater set. Volakis got Cameron a delicate silver watch. She immediately put it on and smiled brightly at her.

"How did you know I wanted this sweater?" Volakis asked Kutner.

"One of Santa's little helpers told me," he responded with a wink.

She smiled and shook her head.

House looked at Reilly who stared down at the open box on the table. He got up and moved to stand behind her. He reached down and pulled the diamond bracelet from the box. Lifting her right arm, he put it on her. She ran her fingers over it lightly.

"It's beautiful," she told him. Then she stood and hugged him.

"Thank you," she whispered in his ear.

He held her tightly for a moment and then released her. He looked at them all. "Go home," he told them. "I'll see you the day after Christmas at Reilly's." He picked up his new GameBoy and left.


	34. Chapter 34

2009

House stood in front of the whiteboard staring at a set of symptoms. It was just after midnight and they'd all been working since the day before.

"Maybe Greg's soap star really is-" Reilly began when all their pagers went off. She looked down at hers. "Ugh. We have to go down to the ER. Bus crash."

"Well, there's nothing we can do for Brock Sterling right now," House said. "May as well go down and pull glass shards out of people."

As soon as they arrived in the ER, Cuddy rushed over to House and Reilly. Her face was pale and her breath came in short gasps.

"Niamh was on the bus," she began. "A pole impaled her liver and one of her lungs. She also suffered massive head trauma when the bus flipped. We've made her comfortable-"

"Where is she?" House growled as Reilly leaned into him clutching his shirt.

Cuddy led them to a quiet corner of the ER. She pulled back the curtain and stepped back. Niamh lay in the bed, hooked up to an EEG, a heart bypass machine and a respirator.

"I'm sorry," Cuddy whispered. "The damage was too extensive and she lost too much blood before they found her. I made them put her on the machines before I called you."

Reilly gripped the edge of the bed and pulled herself forward until she stood by Niamh's side. She took her aunt's hand and began to sob.

"Get her on the list for a kidney and liver transplant," House said walking around to the other side of the bed. He pulled a stool over and sat down. He looked at Niamh. She was bruised and cut but she looked serene as if she was merely sleeping.

"It's too late," Cuddy told him. She looked at Reilly. "You're her next of kin. You have to decide what you want to do."

Reilly swallowed hard. She looked at the EEG and saw there was no brain activity. "Unhook her," Reilly said. "She's gone."

"NO!" House shouted. "We get her a new kidney and a new liver!"

Cuddy slipped away closing the curtain. Reilly looked at House.

"Greg," she said softly as tears flowed down her cheeks and dripped off her chin. "Look at the EEG. She's gone."

House laid his head down on Niamh's shoulder and rested his hand on her stomach. "I asked her to stay. She was going to stay."

"I know," Reilly told him. "She loves you so much."

House stood up and turned off the machines. The heart monitor began a long steady beep. He put his fist through it. Reilly ran over to him and took his bloody fist in her hands. He gathered her in his arms and they both cried.

Reilly sat next to House on a plane headed for Ireland. Most of her family filled the seats around them. They were taking Niamh home.

When they arrived in Shannon, Arden was waiting for them. Tad and Gaia both died several years earlier. They all waited in the terminal as Niamh's casket was unloaded from the plane. A large van from the local funeral home drove up to the plane. Two men got out and transferred the coffin to the van then drove away.

"They're takin' Ma to Aunt Branna's house to be laid out for the wake," Arden told them as they made their way to the bus waiting outside the terminal. Porters were loading their luggage into it.

Meara stopped him and cupped his face. "You're allowed to grieve for her," she told him.

He nodded. "I have and I will," he told her. "But now is the time to celebrate her life, right?"

Meara nodded and followed Gil onto the bus.

"A bus?" House rasped.

"Greg," Reilly whispered as she took his hand. He gripped it tightly and they got on the bus.

When they arrived at Branna's house, the van was already there and the men were unloading the casket. Branna, who could have been Meara's twin, directed them into the house.

House climbed down from the bus with Reilly behind him. Branna's sons and grandsons unloaded all the luggage from the bus. The bus driver got out once everyone was off and helped carry the luggage into the house.

"How much do we owe the bus driver?" House asked as Reilly walked up to the house with him.

"Nothing," she told him. "That's Uncle Iain, Aunt Graine's husband. He works for the bus company in Shannon."

The walked up the steps and House faltered. He gripped his right thigh. Reilly looked at him with concern.

"It's fine," he told her. "Just a cramp from sitting so long on the plane." They entered the house and he noticed all the mirrors were covered.

"What is it with you Catholics and Jews covering the mirrors?" he asked with a sigh.

"It's part of the Irish wake tradition, as you well know," she told him. "Why don't you go sit down. I'm going to help prepare Niamh."

"I suppose you'll do the whole traditional cleaning, dressing, rosary, cross and candles?" he asked.

She nodded. "The funeral mass is in three days. Then she'll be laid to rest in the family cemetery next to Nan and Pa."

House reached into the pocket of his jeans and pulled out a marble rosary with a platinum Celtic cross. He put it in Reilly's hand and closed her fingers over it.

"I got it for her for Christmas," he told her. "She loved it and carried it with her most of the time. Ironically, she forgot to take it with her the night of the bus crash. Bury it with her."

Reilly nodded and walked toward the back of the house. House looked around and went back outside. He wandered around until he found a bench under an ancient gnarled tree. His leg was beginning to throb. Slowly, he sat down and rubbed his right thigh. He looked up at the bright blue sky visible between the branches and leaves of the tree.

"I guess the ketamine is finally wearing off," he whispered.

House entered the Diagnostics conference room. He leaned heavily on his cane and held a bottle of Vicodin in his left hand. His beard was thick and shot through with grey. His clothes were wrinkled and there were bags and dark circles under his eyes. Cameron looked up at him and walked over to him. She smoothed his wrinkled dress shirt and then hugged him. He stood stiff and unmoving until she released him.

"I'm sorry," she whispered and moved away from him.

Kutner and Volakis watched him from their seats at the table. Reilly turned from the coffee machine and looked at him.

"The nurses are on strike," she told him. "We don't have any patients. Doctor Cuddy wants us to fill in where needed. You don't need to be here."

"Have I been fired?" he asked dully.

She sighed. "No. Just go home."

He looked at the other members of the team. "Get out," he ordered.

They pushed their chairs back, got up and left. Once they were gone, House sank down in an empty chair and opened the bottle of Vicodin. He poured two out into his hand and put them into his mouth. Swallowing them, he leaned his arms on the table.

"I can't stand to be there," he said. "Everywhere I look, I see her things."

Reilly came and sat down next to him. She placed his red mug filled with coffee next to him.

"I can help you pack her things up," she told him. "I can ship them to Ireland."

"I can't do it," he told her.

She reached up and smoothed his hair. He leaned into her hand. "Then I'll do it," she responded softly. "You can go stay at my house."

He nodded and slowly pushed himself up. He looked down at her. "No comment about the cane and Vicodin?" he asked.

She shrugged. "The ketamine wore off."

"Wilson tells me it's psychological."

"Of course he does," she sighed.

"You think so, too," he stated.

"I think the ketamine wore off because your heart broke. But, I also believe the pain in your leg is very real."

"I'll be at your place," he told her and then walked out.

Reilly and Cameron entered House's apartment. They both grimaced when the smell hit them. There was garbage everywhere.

"Let's get Niamh's things packed up and then we'll clean," Reilly told Cameron.

Cameron nodded.

An hour later, there were boxes in the hallway and Reilly was on her knees scrubbing the bathroom floor. She looked over her shoulder as Cameron carried dirty clothes out of the bedroom and added them to the pile in the hallway.

"When are you going to tell him?" she called out sitting back on her heels.

Cameron came to the doorway of the bathroom. "I don't really know how to tell him," she responded. "Especially after everything he's been through."

"You can't hide the ring forever," Reilly told her. "You're getting married to Nate. It's better that you tell him rather than having him hear it from someone else."

"I know. He's just been through so much."

"He's at my house," Reilly told her. "I'll sit down with you and you can tell him while we wash his clothes."

Cameron nodded and went to the kitchen.

After three hours, the apartment was spotless and smelled fresh. They loaded the laundry and the boxes into Reilly's SUV and drove to the post office where they dropped off the boxes to be shipped back to Ireland. They arrived at Reilly's house and carried the laundry in. House was asleep on the couch in the family room.

"I'll come back later," Cameron whispered.

"Oh, no, you don't," Reilly whispered back. "You go sort the laundry. I'm going to order pizza and then wake him up. You are telling him." Cameron turned and started to walk to the living room where they left the laundry. Reilly grabbed her arm. "And don't even think about leaving."

"Fine!" Cameron whispered furiously and stomped out to the living room.

Reilly went upstairs to her bedroom and opened her top dresser drawer. She pulled out the t-shirt she borrowed from House all those years ago when they were sharing an apartment. She carried it downstairs and placed it on the coffee table in front of the couch where House slept. She went out to the living room, called for three pizzas to be delivered and then helped Cameron with House's laundry.

The smell of pizza and the sound of the television woke House. He stretched and sat up. Reilly and Cameron were sitting in the two chairs flanking the couch, eating pizza and watching a movie.

"Good, you're awake," Reilly said as she got up and went into the kitchen. She returned with a bottle of beer which she handed to him. He took it, removed the top, and took a long swallow. Then he reached for a large slice of pizza. Leaning back, he took a bite of the hot, cheesy pizza loaded with everything. A flash of light caught his eye. Cameron reached for another piece of pizza with her left hand. The diamond ring she wore caught the afternoon sun again.

"Mazel Tov," he told her nodding toward the ring. "Soccer Guy?"

She nodded. "He asked me the day after…."

"You can say it," he told her. "Niamh died. She's dead."

Cameron licked her lips. "He asked me the day after you left for Ireland. For Niamh's funeral."

"See?" he asked. "That wasn't so hard." He looked down at the coffee table and his neatly folded t-shirt. Looking up at Reily, he smirked. "About time you returned it."

She smiled. "I'm just switching it out for your Lincoln Mayne's t-shirt with the skulls and flowers," she told him.

"I love that shirt!"

She smiled. "Well, I'm going to borrow it for a few years."

He put his feet up on the coffee table. "Is my apartment clean?"

"Yes," Reilly told him turning her attention back to the television. "We're doing your laundry now."

"Did you ship all Niamh's things back to Ireland?"

She nodded. "I did leave her computer, a few pictures and some of her books. Hope that's okay."

House shrugged. "It's fine." He focused on the soap opera and they all fell silent.


	35. Chapter 35

2009

House walked into Wilson's office. Wilson and the woman he was talking to looked over at him. House ignored them and sat down on the couch.

"My assistant will schedule a follow-up appointment," Wilson told her.

"Is he a patient?" she whispered leaning forward.

"No, he's a doctor here," House answered. "And he'd be thrilled if you got the hell out of here."

The woman hastily gathered up her purse and left.

"Do I need to start locking the door?" Wilson asked him.

"I need more Vicodin," House responded. "Write me a script."

"No."

House narrowed his eyes and sat forward.

Wilson shook his head. "I'm not writing you a script. Your pain is all in your head. You need to see a psychiatrist."

"Funny, because the pain feels like it's in my leg and not my head. My bad. Write the script."

"No," Wilson sad again, shaking his head.

House pushed himself up from the couch and limped out of the room. Wilson flinched when the door slammed shut.

House walked into the Diagnostics conference room and looked around.

"Where's Reilly?" he asked.

Cameron looked up at him from the charts she was working on. "She's at home. Said she had an emergency."

House turned and left.

Reilly was in the kitchen talking to a repairman. House went to the couch in the family room and lay down. He was on the verge of sleep when Reilly touched his arm. He blinked sleepily and looked over at her.

"Write me a script for Vicodin. Wilson is refusing," he told her.

She sat down on the coffee table. "I will on one condition," she told him.

He sat up and gripped his cane. "No!" he shouted. "No fucking conditions! I'm in pain! WRITE THE FUCKING SCRIPT!"

"Don't you yell at me!" she shouted back. "I know you're in pain but you don't get to take it out on me!"

He blew out a breath. "Just write the script."

She stared at him until he looked away. "Fine," she told him. She got up and returned a few minutes later with a prescription in her hand. She held it out to him. He took it and shoved it into front pocket of his jeans.

"I need to pick up my new car," he told her. "Come with me."

She nodded and left again. When she returned she had her purse. He got up and she followed him to the front door. As he opened the door, his cellphone rang and so did hers. She pulled hers out of her purse and answered it. He pulled his out of his pocket and looked at the caller ID. His mother's name and number showed up on the screen. He clicked it on.

"Hi, Mom," he answered. "I'm kind of busy-"

"John died," she told him.

"You okay?" he asked looking at Reilly. She was talking to someone and her face was unreadable.

"I think so," his mother responded. "The funeral is Friday. Will you come?"

"I don't know."

"Will you come for me?"

House sighed. "I'll call you back once I look over my schedule," he told her and hung up. He pushed his phone back in his pocket and looked at Reilly. She finished her call.

"Your mother?" he asked.

"Yours?" she asked.

He nodded.

"You going to the funeral?" she asked.

"No," he told her.

She nodded. "Well, the girls and I are going. Let's go get your new car."

Four hours later, House dropped Reilly off at home in his new, fully loaded black Mazda MX-5 Miata convertible. She got out and leaned in to look at him.

"I'll see you in the morning," she told him. "I'm going to make some calls about the funeral."

He waited until she was in the house and then he pulled out of her driveway and headed to the hospital. When he entered, he went straight to the pharmacy and got his Vicodin. Once he had the bottle, he opened it and dry-swallowed two.

"Reilly write you a script?" Wilson asked from behind him.

House began to make his way to the elevators with Wilson beside him. "Unlike you," House told him as he jabbed the elevator button with his cane. "She isn't a withholding bitch."

"Your mother called me," Wilson told him as they got into the elevator. "I'm sorry about your dad."

"He isn't my dad."

The elevator dinged and the doors opened. "I know you hate him but he's still your dad."

"He isn't my biological father," House told him as he exited the elevator.

"How do you know? Did you steal some of his DNA and test it?" Wilson asked as he followed House to his office.

"Nope," House told him as he sat down behind his desk. "Reilly figured it out." He tapped his cheek. "Dimples."

Wilson put his hands on his hips and blew out a breath. "You should go for your mother. Support her. She just lost her husband."

"I doubt she's all that broken up about it."

The phone rang and House answered it. He closed his eyes when he heard Meara's voice.

"I know ya know the truth about yer mom and dad," she told him. "Ye're right. John House isn't yer father. But yer mother needs ya. Ye're all she has left. So, you're coming. That's final. Have that boyo, James, bring ya." She hung up and the dial tone sounded. House replaced the receiver back in its cradle.

"I've been ordered to attend his funeral," House told Wilson.

"Who could get you to do that?" Wilson asked in shock.

"Reilly's mother. We'll leave on Friday morning. Go make the plane reservations and tell Cuddy."

"I can't wait to meet Reilly's mother," Wilson said with a smile as he left.

There was a slight chill in the air as House stood on the sidewalk outside Dulles Airport in Washington, DC. He leaned heavily on his cane as Wilson loaded their bags in the trunk of the rental car.

"Couldn't you get anything better?" he asked plaintively as he cast a dubious eye over the white Ford Escort.

"It's cheap and it was available," Wilson told him as he shut the trunk and walked around to the driver's side door. "So long as it gets you there who cares what it looks like?"

House opened the passenger door and very carefully got into the car. Once he fastened his seatbelt, Wilson pulled away and headed toward Virginia.

"Where's your mother going to live?" Wilson asked once they were on the highway.

"Don't know."

"Don't know or don't care?" Wilson asked acerbically.

"What a hurtful thing to say," House told him. Wilson glanced at him and saw he was serious.

"So, what is the deal with you and your dad?" he asked changing the subject.

"He's not my biological father," House told him looking out at the scenery as it flashed past. "Reilly and I figured it out when we were twelve. We were studying genetics. Technically, Reilly figured it out."

"And let me guess," Wilson replied. "You told him."

"Didn't speak to me for two months. When he had something to say to me, he typed it up and put it under the door to my room. Reilly begged me not to tell him but I hated him. Still do."

"What did your mom say?"

House shrugged. "Nothing, really. She hates confrontation. Besides, what could she say? She cheated on him."

Wilson was silent and House leaned back.

They arrived at the Marine base at Quantico just as the sun was setting. Wilson drove to the house where Blythe and John lived. Street lights were blinking on and most of the houses were lit from within with warm, golden light. Wilson pulled in behind a blue Chevy truck and a green Chevy Malibu. House sat looking at the cars and the neatly landscaped front yard. A large American flag mounted on the wall by the front window rippled in the gentle breeze. The house was a small ranch with a front porch. A walkway led from the driveway to the front door.

"It looks so normal from the outside, doesn't it?" House asked. "You'd never know a monster lived there."

"Oh, come on, House," Wilson sighed. "He couldn't be that bad."

"If I was late to a meal, I didn't eat. If I was insubordinate, disrespectful or didn't respond to a command quickly, I had to sleep outside, take an ice bath, get locked in the closet."

Wilson turned to stare at him in shock. "Jesus, House," he breathed. "Why didn't anyone do anything?"

"Reilly did what she could. No one else knew. He was only verbally abusive in front of Reilly's family. Aunt Meara usually cursed him and left when he was. John House was a respected Marine. From the outside, we were the perfect little family."

"I'm sorry," Wilson told him sincerely.

House shrugged and unlatched his seat belt. Grabbing his cane, he opened the car door and got out. He heard the other car door slam and then the front door opened. Meara walked out, saw House, and held out her arms. Wilson watched in shock as House hugged her tightly. She pulled back and smoothed her hand down his cheek.

"Oh, Greg, it's so good to see ya," she said softly. She looked over his shoulder at Wilson. "You must be James," she said. "I'm Meara, Reilly's mother."

Wilson walked up to her and held out his hand. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Mrs. Reilly."

Meara enfolded him in a hug. "We don't stand on ceremony," she told him. "And ye're to call me Meara or Aunt Meara as Greg does." She smiled at him. "Come in the house and see yer poor mother," she told House.

Reilly was sitting on the couch next to Blythe when House and Wilson walked in. Blythe stood up and walked toward her son. His eyes searched her face and she smiled at him. He pulled her into his arms and held her.

"I'm so glad you came," she said softly. Pulling back, she looked at him. "How was your flight?"

"It was fine, Mom," he told her. She nodded and looked at Wilson. Reilly got up and motioned for House to follow her. They went out the back door and stood on the small patio.

"Aunt Blythe wants me to ask you to say a few words at the funeral tomorrow," she told him. "Dad is giving the eulogy. But, if you don't want to, I can get you out of it."

House shook his head. "You are the only person who can lie to my mom."

"I have never lied to your mother," she told him indignantly.

He looked at her and she blew out a breath. "What do you want to do?" she asked him.

He shrugged and tapped his cane on the concrete as he looked out over the dark yard. "I'll say something."

"Why does that fill me with dread?" she sighed.

House looked at her and smiled. "I'll behave."

They went back into the house where the others waited for them.


	36. Chapter 36

**A/N: Thanks to the people who have favorited this and/or are following it. I appreciate it.**

2009

House slept in the guest room and Wilson slept on the fold out couch in the living room. Everything was quiet and House lay on his back staring up at the ceiling. He would get up tomorrow, put on his black suit, go to the funeral, say a few empty, meaningless words and then leave. He heard the front door open and close then the sound of footsteps. The door to the bedroom opened and Reilly slipped in. House sat up and reached for the switch on the lamp.

"Don't," she whispered. "Scooch over."

He slid over to the other side of the full sized bed and flipped back the covers. Reilly got into bed and shivered slightly.

"Cold?" he asked softly.

"Yeah," she told him. "You okay?"

"Not really," he told her.

She snuggled up next to him and he put his arm around her as he pulled the blankets up over her shoulder.

"Is it because you have to say something about him?" she asked her warm breath ghosting against his neck.

"Yeah. What am I supposed to say about him? He wasn't really my father? He was a narcissistic, abusive asshole? Living with him was pure hell?"

"I don't think any of that would go over too well," she replied. "Just say you are the man you are today because of him. It's the truth."

"Shut up and go to sleep," he told her.

When House awoke the next morning, Reilly was gone and the smell of coffee tickled his nose. He flipped back the blankets and stretched. Grabbing his robe and cane, he made his way to the kitchen. His mother and Wilson stood near the stove. The scent of bacon and pancakes mixed with the scent of coffee.

"No sausages?" House asked as he went over to the coffee maker and poured a cup of coffee. He added several heaping spoonfuls of sugar, stirred it and then took a sip.

"Not this morning," Blythe smiled at him. She wore navy pants and a navy and white sweater.

Wilson flipped a pancake. He was dressed in jeans and his McGill sweatshirt.

"Any chance those are macadamia nut pancakes?" House asked him as he leaned back against the counter.

"Nope," Wilson replied. "Just regular pancakes." He flipped the ones on the griddle. Blythe got plates and cutlery. She carried them into the small dining room and set the table.

"The funeral is at two," Wilson told him. "Our flight leaves at seven."

"Oh, you're good," House grinned.

Wilson shrugged and scooped the pancakes up. He added them to the stack on the plate at the back of the stove. "Let's eat," he said as he slipped on oven mitts and picked up the plates of pancakes and bacon.

The funeral home was filled with people milling around talking softly. House walked in behind his mother. People turned when she entered and she was immediately pulled away. House found a quiet corner with a chair and sat down. He saw Reilly with Sarah and Jenny. They stood with Meara and Gil talking to a group of men in uniform. The base chaplain came out of another room and told everyone they were ready to begin. Two Marine corporals opened the double doors leading to the main room. John House was laid out in his uniform. An American flag was draped over the end of his casket. Blythe found House and they walked in and sat down in the front row. Wilson sat down next to House. Gil walked up to the podium and stood at attention as the chaplain said a short prayer. Then he stepped behind the podium and looked over at the open casket. House tapped his cane against the carpeted floor. He felt a sharp pinch from behind and looked over his shoulder at Reilly. She looked back at him with wide, serious eyes. _Don't_ , she mouthed. He turned back and gripped his cane.

Gil cleared his throat and recited the The Prayer For The Dead that House heard Reilly recite so many times. Then he pulled some notes from the inside of his uniform and put them on the podium. He smoothed them and looked out at the people sitting in front of him.

"Dear friends and family gathered here today," he began to read. "This day is a hard one for us all. It is so much easier to mourn in silence; it takes away the worry of not being able to get your words out, or even just simply getting the right words out. But silence or not, one thing which I am sure we all appreciate today, is being here all together, sharing in each other's silence, sharing in each other's moments of thought for John, who we all respected."

House leaned close to Wilson. "I bet he got that off the internet," he whispered.

Wilson gave him a warning look.

"We will all have our own personal and special memories of the mark John left in our hearts, in our lives and it is very hard for me today to be up here, hearing my own thoughts out loud, trying my best to focus on the happiest times John brought us, rather than the fact that he is no longer here with us today," Gil continued. "I am certain of two things, though. He would have wanted us all to be here today with our happiest thoughts of our times spent together and secondly...John is still here with us, very strongly in spirit. He was such a strong person through and through, from character, personality and presence. We are all here because somewhere, somehow, we have all been touched by John House." He cleared his throat again, folded the papers and tucked them back in his uniform. "Now, we will hear a few words from his wife, Blythe."

House's mother rose slowly and walked up to the podium. Her face was serene as she looked at House.

"It means more to me than...than I can say to have all of you here today. And now, uh, our son Gregory would like to say a few words," she said. "Greg?"

House gripped his cane and stood. He limped up to the podium and Blythe stood to one side. She took his arm and looked straight ahead.

"There are a lot of people here today. Most are from the corps. I notice that every one of them is either my father's rank or higher. That doesn't surprise me. Because, if the test of a man is how he treats those he has power over, it was a test my father failed," House said in a steady voice. Blythe tightened her grip on his arm. "This man you're eager to pay homage to, he was incapable of admitting any point of view but his own. He punished failure, and he did not accept anything less than —"

He looked out at Reilly. A look of hurt shone from her eyes and she shook her head. House cleared his throat.

"He loved doing what he did," he continued more softly. "He saw his work as some kind of…a sacred calling. It was more important than any personal relationship. Maybe if he'd been a better father, I'd be a better son. But I am what I am because of him, for better or for worse. And I just ...I just wish …" His voice trailed off. Slowly he walked over to the casket. Slipping his hand in his pocket, he pulled out nail clippers. Leaning down, he snipped a bit of skin from John's neck, just below the collar of his uniform where it wouldn't show. He kissed John's cold forehead and slipped the clippers and the skin sample into his pocket. Then he turned and walked down the aisle and out of the funeral home. Wilson followed him out.

"What did you do?" Wilson asked suspiciously as they walked out to the rental car.

"Got a DNA sample," House told him. "Now, take me home."

"Aren't you going to say goodbye to your mother?"

House placed his hand on the roof of the car and closed his eyes. "I'll call her when I get home."

The next day, House sat in his office with his feet propped up on his desk. He tossed a small rubber ball up in the air and caught it. In the conference room, he could hear the team as they worked on case files. There was the occasional burst of laughter and then more talking. Wilson sat in House's lounger with his feet up reading a book.

"How long does it take to test some DNA?" House asked as he continued to toss the ball up and catch it.

"Considering that she's doing it without permission, I'd say a while," Wilson told him without looking up from his book.

The office door opened and Reilly walked in holding a piece of paper. "John House is not your father," she announced as she walked across the room and handed the paper to House. "You are not even remotely related to him. You and Wilson, however, share an ancestor."

Wilson looked at her in shock. "You tested my DNA?" he asked.

"Amber asked me to," she told him with a shrug.

"Why?" he asked as he sat up and looked into the conference room.

"You'll have to ask her."

House carefully read over the results and then tossed the paper on his desk. "My mother is a slut."

"Was a slut," Reilly corrected. "Mom told me Aunt Blythe used to sneak out when John was away on missions. She apparently had sex with a lot of men."

"So, does this mean things can go back to normal?" Wilson asked as he shut the book and stood. He made his way to the door to the conference room.

"When have things ever been normal here?" House asked. "And my guess is Amber had Reilly do a DNA test on you because she's pregnant and doesn't want any nasty little surprises when she pops out your spawn."

Wilson swallowed and all the color drained from his face. He walked slowly into the conference room and they heard him ask Volakis to come to his office.

"Oh, he is so gullible!" Reilly laughed. "He's been driving Amber nuts with the marriage proposals."

"I know," House grinned. "She's an evil genius and so are you."

"Well, you helped," she told him as she sat down in one of the chairs in front of his desk. "Now maybe they can get that condo she wants."

"Or he's so freaked he'll break up with her," House told her holding his hands up. His fingers were crossed and he grinned hopefully.

"Oh, he's so in love with her he's not gonna do that. Besides, you spend just as much time with him as you did before they started dating," Reilly reminded him.

"Yeah, but now he has a curfew."

Reilly shrugged. "She really likes having sex with him and they do it at least twice before they go to sleep."

House made a face of disgust. "Do not put such terrifying images in my head, you evil little pixie."

"Turnabout is fair play." She leaned back and crossed her legs. "So, what are you going to do about the paternity thing? You going to try to find your real father?"

House tossed Reilly the ball and they began to throw it back and forth. "I don't think so," he told her. "He was just some random bit of strange my mom picked up for a one nighter."

"You aren't curious? You're curious about everything."

"Not about this. It's….icky."

"Okay."


	37. Chapter 37

2010

Cameron walked into House's office. Reilly sat at House's desk and House was sprawled out on his lounger.

"Just got a page from the ER," she told them. "Cop was brought in. He's been shot-"  
"Boring," House told her.

"And euphoric. Tox screen is clean. No apparent reason for him to be so happy," Cameron finished.

"Not so boring," Reilly said.

Later that afternoon, the whole team was gathered in the conference room reading over the patient file.

"According to Baby Shoes, the cop was laughing before he got shot," Kutner commented.

"Baby Shoes?" Volakis asked incredulously as she flipped through the file. "Real reliable witness."

House stuck two CT scans up on the light board. "His name's Baby Shoes. How bad can he be?" He pointed at the scans. "Bullets are in the wrong place to cause euphoria. And we already know it's not drugs." He looked over at Volakis. "What'd Wilson say?" he asked her.

She looked up and grinned slowly. "We're getting a condo and we're not getting married."

"He's so gullible," Kutner commented. "Joe's got a cough, cloudy lungs and elevated heart rate. What about carbon monoxide poisoning?"

"His heart rate is elevated because he got shot," Volakis told him.

"What if it was elevated before he got shot?" Kutner shot back. "I say we test him for carbon monoxide poisoning."

House held out his cane. "Go test him." Kutner got up and left. "CB, go check out his house."

"Why me?" she complained. "I did the last three."

"Because I arbitrarily decided it's your turn. Again."

Her eyes narrowed but she got up, grabbed her purse and started to leave.

"Bring Daddy back lots of good samples," House told her. She left and he turned to look at Cameron.

"Any ideas?" he asked her.

"I think I should go check out his partner," she told him. "If Joe does have CO poisoning, his partner would be sick, too."

House nodded. "Go check out the precinct, too. And while you're there, pay my parking tickets."

She nodded, got up, grabbed her bag and left. Reilly leaned back in her chair.

"She has your checkbook," she told him. "You never took her off your account. She, however, took you off hers."

"Shit!" House growled. "I never should have let you talk me into doing that!"

"She kept you from being overdrawn each month. You order way too much pay-per-view porn. Besides, I kind of hoped it would push you to marry her."

"Now I have to pay for all those tickets."

"Exactly."

Kutner returned first. "Low level CO poisoning," he said as he sat down. "But, it's not high enough to cause that level of giddiness. I asked about toxins in his home or at work. He said he keeps a clean house and there's nothing he knows about at work. Oh, and he's still happy, happy, happy, happy. I put him in the hyperbaric chamber."

"Good," House told him. "But that doesn't rule out the cough, cloudy lungs or elevated heart rate." He looked at his watch. "Who's hungry?" He looked at Kutner and Reilly. "Let's get some lunch and then we'll see how our happy-go-lucky cop is doing."

After lunch, Kutner went to check on Joe and Cameron returned. She handed House a receipt.

"Your tickets are paid and there is a leaking air conditioner near the cop's desk," she told him.

"Checkbook," he told her holding out his hand.

She smiled and pulled it from her purse. He snatched it from her and put it in his back pocket.

"Anyway," she said. "I'm thinking Legionnaires'. It takes forty-eight hours to test, though."

"It's quicker to just treat him," House told her.

An hour later, Volakis came back. "I need a detox shower," she shuddered as she hung her bag on the coat rack. "I took all the samples down to the lab. His place was more disgusting than a landfill and smelled worse, too. Oh, he has a grow house. He's high because he's high. All that marijuana-"

Kutner ran in. "He's blind," he panted.

Cameron came in behind him. "He's also having muscular contractions."

"Hmmm," House said stroking his chin. "Maybe he really is sick. Did you treat the Legionnaires?"

Cameron nodded. "We'll know more about that in a few hours."

Reilly stood up. "I'll go check his eyes with a slit lamp."

"CB, go with Reilly to check on Officer Krupke," House ordered.

"I'll start testing the samples Amber brought in," Cameron said.

Kutner looked at his watch and sighed. "I'll go do my clinic duty."

Once they were all gone, House looked around. "I'll go take a nap."

He was sprawled out in his lounger snoring softly when Cameron and Reilly entered. Reilly shook him awake. He yawned and stretched.

"He thinks he can see," she told him. "His brain just can't process it. So I did a complete transthoracic echocardiogram. His heart is clean."

"We need to do a contrast MRI but we can't because of the bullet fragments," Cameron added.

Volakis strolled into the office and smiled at them all. "I gave him Warfarin to break up the clots." She stopped and laughed. "He started shooting blood everywhere. Whoo! What a mess! Then he had a seizure. Really cool. So, I sent him to the OR so they can drill a hole in his head." She laughed again.

House sat up and looked at her. "You're laughing."

She chuckled. "It was like a horror movie in there."

"Oh, Jesus," Reilly sighed. "Whatever the cop has Amber has. Let's get her to an isolation room."

"I'm not sick," Volakis protested with a laugh. "Am I?"

"Afraid so," House told her.

Three days later, Volakis paced the isolation room. She coughed. Two days earlier, House infected her with Legionnaires to slow the process of the unknown disease. She was pale, sweating and her eyes were red rimmed. Wilson and House stood outside. The cop, Joe, lay in a hospital bed, sedated. Whatever was making him sick caused the pain receptors in his brain to stop working. Volakis put him in a coma. He was no longer screaming in pain but he was still experiencing it.

"Putting me in here with him WILL make me sick!" she protested. She looked accusingly at House. "Or sicker than I already am, thanks to you tossing that vial of poison in here."

"Amber," Wilson said putting his hands on the glass separating them. "You were laughing. He was bleeding and seizing and you were laughing. That's how it started for him."

"Well, if you aren't sick, then he's not contagious," House told her. "Good news is that Reilly and Kutner are bringing a portable MRI to scan your bullet free brain. I'll be back once we have the results of the MRI."

House, Reilly, and Kutner stared at the MRI film in the light box.

"There's an area of increased T-2 attenuation in her cingulate cortex," Reilly pointed out.

"Could be any number of brain based viruses," Kutner replied. "Or bacterias considering what Amber said his place looks like."

"Or it could be a toxin," Reilly added. "Since Amber is the only one affected, it's unlikely that it's passed from person to person. Whatever it is, she got while at that apartment."

House looked around. "Where's Cameron?" he asked.

"You don't think she'd go back?" Reilly asked.

"Caring Compassionate Cameron? Would she go back for one of her BFFs?" House asked sarcastically. "Keep an eye on our two happy campers. I'll be back."

Cameron exited the tarp covering the apartment through a slit. She carried a large garbage bag and wore a dark blue biohazard suit. When she saw House sitting on a chair in the hallway, she pulled the helmet off.

"Double checking for something CB might have missed?" he asked as he stood up and barred her way with his cane. He looked down at her. "Are you really going to marry Soccer Guy?" he asked softly as he stared intently at her.

"Yeah, I am," she breathed. Then she looked away and blew out her breath. "I found a lot of rye bread." She pulled several bags of the bread out of the trash bag.

"Now what would our stoner cop want with so much rye bread?" House mused.

"Pigeons," Cameron said. "There's a whole bunch of pigeons outside the apartment." She dropped the bag, put her helmet back on, and walked over to one of the windows lining the hallway. Pushing it open, she started to climb out when House's cell phone rang. He pulled it from his pocket.

"What?" he asked. He listened and then hung up. "CB's blind and Wilson's got the chaplain in there trying to get her to marry him."

Cameron looked back at him and then climbed out the window. She walked along the narrow alleyway.

"I see a lot of pigeons but no pigeon crap," she yelled. She jerked when a pigeon flew past her and crashed into the wall. "Blind pigeon."

House climbed out after her. He limped along scanning the walls. When he came to the ladder leading up to the roof, he motioned for Cameron.

"He's not an ordinary, run of the mill dirty cop," House told her. "He's a thief. My guess is he's irrigating the grow house with water from the water tank and fertilizing using pigeon shit. Climb up and get a sample of the water."

Cameron pulled a sample bottle out of her pocket. "You thinking Naegleria?"

"Yeah," he said. "Go!"

They returned to the hospital and House hovered over Cameron as she tested the water from the water tank. She looked up from the microscope. "It's riddled with Naegleria."

House turned to Kutner who hovered in the doorway. "They have Primary Amoebic Meningoencephalitis," House told him. "Start them on amphotericin B, rifampin, dexamethasone, miconazole, and phenytoin."

Kutner nodded and ran off.

"So, Wilson dragged the chaplain in to perform a marriage ceremony?" Cameron asked.

"What can I say?" he smiled. "He's a drama queen. CB has completely emasculated him."

"She doesn't want to get married," Cameron commented as they began to walk down the hallway to the elevators. "But she does want to be with him."

"Unlike you," House smirked.

"I have some news," she told him. "I'm pregnant."

House stopped walking and stood still as he processed the information.

"Well, since we haven't slept together in a couple years, either I possess some miraculous sperm or Soccer Guy is going to be a dad."

"It's Nate's," she smiled. "And we're both happy about it. I'm due in five months so we're going to the courthouse on Friday to get married. I'd like you to be there."

"Is Soccer Guy okay with your ex boy toy being there?"

"Yes," she told him as the elevator dinged and the doors slid open. "He likes you and trusts me."

They entered the elevator. House tapped his cane on the floor and watched the number flash past. Suddenly he stiffened and looked over at her.

"House?" she asked touching his sleeve lightly.

"You went into that cesspool knowing you were pregnant?" he asked in shock. "What the fuck, Cameron! And you were around those flying rodents! Jesus Christ!" He slammed his hand against the stop button.

"I was wearing a Hazmat suit," she told him. "I told my ob-gyn where I was going and she okayed it. I haven't gone anywhere near the cop or Amber, either."

"No more unnecessary risks." He looked down at her.

"I promise. Now, are you going to come to my wedding? Reilly is the matron of honor," she told him.

"Are you making her wear a truly hideous bridesmaid dress?" he asked as he hit the button and the elevator began to move again.

She laughed. "No, sorry. So, you'll come?"

"What time?" he asked.

"Ten thirty in the morning. You can go straight from home to city hall," she smiled.

"Wouldn't miss it," he said as the elevator doors opened and he got out. Cameron watched him limp away then pushed the button for the isolation floor.

Joe, the cop, died the next day. The CDC came and removed his body. Volakis remained in the isolation room for a week before being moved to a room on the fourth floor. House, Reilly, and Kutner attended the wedding. House sat silently as Cameron became Allison Henderson. Wilson stayed with Volakis but sent the couple a Kitchen Aid mixer with all the attachments. After the ceremony, they all went out to lunch then Cameron and Nate left for their honeymoon while the others returned to work. House was unusually quiet but Reilly gave him his space while keeping watch over him.


	38. Chapter 38

2010

House was leaning against the post at the nurses station watching Reilly and Kutner work on their patient, a sixteen year old experiencing hallucinations and suffering with liver failure. Cameron sat on one of the couches outside the room with the girl's parents getting as detailed a history as possible. House looked up at all the Christmas decorations and then back at Cameron. She was well into her sixth month of pregnancy and her belly jutted out. Her face was rounder and there was something softer about her. House refused to let her go anywhere near the patients and refused to let her work in the clinic. He made a deal with Cuddy to take over her clinic hours himself. Reilly commented once about his selfless behavior but he denied it telling her he didn't want to be responsible for Cameron giving birth to a two headed baby.

Cuddy walked up to him and leaned back on the counter. "I need a favor," she told him.

"And what do I get?" he asked.

"I'm overhauling the way we handle the clinic," she began.

"Don't you mean the way you handle the Eighth Circle of Hell?" he interrupted.

"And I'm assigning two doctors to work there full-time and have the residents treat the patients. They'll be supervised and the rest of the staff can tend to their own patients. So, no more clinic duty for you. Now-"

"That's not really giving me anything," he asserted. "That's just something you should have done years ago. What do I get for doing this favor of which you speak?"

She sighed loudly and rolled her eyes. "What do you want?"

"A forty inch flat screen plasma television mounted on the wall in my office. And I want cable. The good kind."

Cuddy folded her arms and tapped one foot.

"You're going to fold since all the other departments have their own lounges with those TVs. So, what do you want and how soon will I get my TV?" he asked.

"Next week," she responded through clenched teeth. "And I want you to ask Reilly to write a letter for me. I'm trying to adopt a baby and I need character references. My lawyer said getting one from someone like Reilly will boost my chances."

"Why Reilly?" he asked. "Why not Cameron or Wilson? Or me?"

"They've already written them for me and there's no way I'm letting you write one."

"Did you ask Reilly?"

Cuddy bit her bottom lip. "She doesn't like me. However, she'll do whatever you ask her to do."

"Actually, she does what she wants," he told her. "But I'll ask. I should warn you, though, that she may want something, too."

"I can't give her anything."

House laughed. "She may ask you to say thank you."

She straightened up and turned on him. "Why do you have to do that?"

He shrugged. "Because it's fun?"

"You're an ass," she ground out and started to walk away.

"Tell me something I don't know," he called out after her.

That night House went over to Reilly's home. He used his key and made his way back to the kitchen. Reilly and Jenny sat at the island in the middle of the kitchen with college letters spread in front of them. The smell of tacos filled the air. The kitchen table was set for three. Reilly glanced up at House as he opened the refrigerator and pulled out a beer.

"What's up?" she asked him.

He jerked his chin in the direction of the letters. "Acceptance letters?" he asked.

"Yep," she responded with a smile. "She got accepted to nearly every college she applied to. She's just trying to decide where she wants to go."

House hung his cane on the edge of the island and limped around to sit on a stool next to Jenny. She pushed the letters over to him. He looked at each one.

"Impressive," he commented. He held out one letter. "Your mom and I went to Harvard. Sarah says she loves it there."

"I know," Jenny sighed tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. The lights from the kitchen brought out the gold highlights in her long, wavy hair. "But, I kind of want to join the Peace Corps for a year. I'm also thinking about going to MIT. I can get a double degree in physics and math there and also get my masters. Then I could go basically anywhere to get my PhD." She looked at Greg with her clear green eyes. "What do you think?"

"I think you've already made up your mind," he told her.

She smiled. "Yeah, I have. I'm going to join the Peace Corps and then go to MIT."

Reilly kissed her cheek. "Good choice. Now, let's eat."

After dinner, Jenny went upstairs to her bedroom and Reilly joined House on the couch.

"Cuddy wants me to write her a letter so she can adopt a baby," she said as she sat down.

"Who mentioned it?" he asked. "Wilson or Cameron?"

"Oh, they told me they were writing letters for her. Why can't she just ask me?"

House smirked. "You don't like her and she knows it."

"Well, if she wants me to write a letter," Reilly said. "She needs to ask me. Nicely. And thank me."

"I will pass that along," he told her as he leaned forward and picked up the remote.

"No sports," she told him. "There's a show on TNT I started watching. It's called _Leverage_."

"Does it have lesbians or car chases?" he asked.

"No lesbians but it lots of fight scenes."

"Fine," House acquiesced and found the station.

The next morning, Cuddy walked into House's office where he and Reilly stood looking at an MRI on the lightboard.

"May I have a moment of your time, Doctor McGrath?" she asked.

"Of course, Doctor Cuddy," Reilly replied in a neutral voice. She followed Cuddy out into the hallway. Cuddy folded her hands and looked directly at Reilly.

"I'm trying to adopt a baby," she began. "I need letters of reference. Character reference. I would be honored if you would write one for me."

Reilly inclined her head. "I'd be happy to do that for you."

Cuddy nodded. "Thank you."

Reilly reached into the pocket of her lab coat and pulled out an envelope. She handed it to Cuddy.

"Already done," she smiled.

Cuddy looked down at the cream colored envelope. "House told you."

"Last night. Why didn't you just ask me in the first place?" Reilly asked.

Cuddy looked up at her. "You don't like me."

"I don't like some of the things you do. I respect you, though. So, next time you need me to do something, just ask me."

Cuddy nodded and smiled. "I will," she assured her. She held up the letter. "Thank you for this."

Reilly nodded. "Good luck."

"Your patient. Natalie?" Cuddy asked. "I went to talk to her. There's something going on with her that she isn't telling. I'd like to help out with this case."

"That would be great," Reilly responded. "Did she ask you if you have kids?"

"Yeah, she did," Cuddy replied. "And she asked about Allison's pregnancy."

"Would you be willing to do a vaginal exam on her?"

"What are you thinking?" Cuddy asked.

"Well, I'm not entirely certain," Reilly told her. "But, I think she may have been pregnant. Probably had the baby and she might have eclampsia. She's just too fixated on kids and pregnancy." She shook her head. "I really hope I'm wrong, though."

"I'll exam her," Cuddy told her and walked away.

Cuddy entered Natalie's room to find her doing homework. She smiled at Cuddy who smiled back.

"Doing homework?" Cuddy asked as she approached her and pulled a pair of latex gloves out of the container by the bed.  
"Yeah, Simon brought it," Natalie told her. "I don't want to fall behind." Suddenly she dropped her pencil and began to seize. Cuddy rolled her on her side and called a code.

"Lorazepam!" Cuddy ordered the nurses who rushed in. One grabbed a syringe from the crash cart they brought in and injected the contents into Natalie's IV. As the drug worked its way through her system she stilled. The heart monitor began to beep frantically.

"Jesus Christ!" Cuddy yelled. "She's bradycardic! Push an amp of atropine!"

Two days later, Reilly met Cuddy outside Natalie's room. Natalie's parents were in the room with her.

"Natalie definitely has eclampsia," Cuddy told her. "I told the parents a couple days ago. They aren't handling it too well. What did you find out?"

"I sent the police to the building she told you about," Reilly told Cuddy. "The baby is alive. A homeless couple was caring for her. She's upstairs in the NICU. I talked to the social worker. She said you can be approved for emergency foster care if her parents agree. We found out that her friend Simon is the father. His parents don't want anything to do with the baby." Reilly shook her head in disgust. "I can talk to Natalie's parents if you want to go upstairs and talk to the social worker."

"You did that for me?"

Reilly smiled sadly. "You want a baby and I have a feeling that baby is going to need a good mother. That would be you."

"Thank you," Cuddy said and walked toward the elevators.

Reilly entered Natalie's room.

"Did they find her body?" Natalie asked.

"They found her and she's alive," Reilly told her. "She's upstairs in the NICU." She looked at Natalie's parents. "The social worker is with the baby now. The father's parents-"

"It was Simon," Natalie whispered. Her mother stood and put her arms around Natalie.

"His parents can't take on the responsibility of a baby," Reilly told them. "So, do you want to take custody of your granddaughter?"

"We talked about it," Natalie's father said. "It's all just too painful. We want to put her up for adoption."

"Could I see her?" Natalie asked. "Maybe hold her?"

"Absolutely," Reilly told her. "I'll go get her."

Reilly went up to the NICU. Cuddy stood over the baby's crib. She looked up at Reilly.

"Get approved," Reilly told her. "Natalie's parents are putting the little one up for adoption. I'm going to take her down so Natalie can see her."

"Rachel," Cuddy told her. "Her name is Rachel."

Reilly carefully picked Rachel up and took her downstairs to Natalie. She gently placed the baby in the girl's arms.

"She's so beautiful," Natalie breathed as she held Rachel close. "Will she have to go to an orphanage?"

"No," Reilly told her. "Doctor Cuddy is going to adopt her."

Natalie smiled weakly. She began to sag against the pillows. Reilly took Rachel from her.

"I'm glad," Natalie said softly. "I like Doctor Cuddy." She closed her eyes and the heart monitor emitted a long, steady tone. Her parents began to cry and a nurse came in and turned off the monitor. Reilly gave the baby to the nurse and told her to take her back upstairs. Then she moved to Natalie's side and smoothed back her hair. Softly she began to recite The Prayer For The Dead. When she finished, Natalie's father looked at her.

"Thank you for that," he whispered. His wife nodded and then reached out to stroke her daughter's hair. Reilly stepped back and left the room. House stood just outside. He looked at her silently. Slowly she walked up to him and rested her head on his shoulder. He wrapped his free arm around her and she sighed as she leaned into him, her hands gripping his waist. They stood like that for a long time.


	39. Chapter 39

2010-2011

Christmas passed quietly. The board of directors brought in Doctor Wood to fill in for Cuddy while she was on maternity leave. Doctor Wood was a no nonsense administrator who immediately put House in his place. The fact that she was tall and gorgeous kept House interested enough to keep testing her. They developed a sexually charged bickering that amused Reilly.

"You should ask her out," Reilly told him one cold morning in January as they sat in his office.

"She's married," House told her.

"And she flirts with you like that?"

House smiled and waggled his eyebrows. "What can I say? Women find me irresistible."

Reilly laughed and shook her head.

"What?" House told her. "She's hot and she's tough. Which makes her even hotter. It's just a little harmless flirting. As she told me the other day, she's happily married but she still likes to have a bit of fun. Her husband knows how she is and is fine with it. Trust me, she never goes too far."

"Have you been by to see Lisa and Rachel?" Reilly asked him.

House's brow furrowed. "Who are they?"

Reilly tossed a paper clip at him. "Very funny."

House flicked the paper clip back at her. "Why would I go see them?"

"Because you like her? Because it's the polite thing to do?"

"Did you see what Wilson bought the kid?" House asked her in an effort to distract her..

"That is the biggest stuffed duck I've ever seen. Were you with him when he bought it?"

House grinned.

"Shame on you, Greg House," Reilly scolded lightly. "What's Rachel supposed to do with that thing?"

"Cuddy can put it in the nursery," House laughed.

"What can I put in the nursery?" Cuddy asked as she entered the office. She carried Rachel in a portable car seat and had a diaper bag slung over her shoulder. She walked over to House's desk and put the car seat on it. She undid the straps and lifted Rachel out. The baby was bundled up against the cold. Cuddy put her in House's arms.

"Wilson's duck," House told her as he looked down at Rachel. She opened her eyes and looked up at him. She made a tiny purring sound.

"She likes you," Reilly told him.

"Yes, she does," Cuddy agreed with a smile.

House shifted Rachel in his arms so that her head was lifted up and she could see Reilly.

"What brings you out today?" Reilly asked as she reached across the desk and wiggled her fingers at Rachel.

"I needed to fill out some paperwork," Cuddy told her. "I thought I'd bring Rachel in so everyone could meet her."

"How are you doing?" Reilly asked her as she sat back.

"Okay," Cuddy answered. "It's harder than I realized it would be but completely worth it. She's an amazing baby."

"Well," House told her holding Rachel out to her. "Your amazing baby just dropped a load in her diaper."

Cuddy took her daughter from him. She put her in the car seat. "I'll change her on the way out." She lifted the car seat and the diaper bag. When she reached the door, she turned back and looked at House. "You should come by," she told him with a smile. "You can help me find a place for the massive duck you convinced Wilson to buy."

House looked at her for a long time and then nodded. Cuddy turned and left. Once she was gone, Reilly picked up House's oversized tennis ball and tossed it to him. He caught it and tossed it back to her.

"Ask her out," Reilly told him as she caught the ball and threw it back to him.

"Why do you want to foist me off on women?" he asked with a scowl as he began to toss the ball over his head and catch it.

"I want you to be happy again," she told him. She tilted her head and looked at him. "Are you still grieving Niamh? If you are, I'll leave you alone."

He sighed and began to rub the ball up and down his right thigh. "I miss her. And I do like Cuddy. Parts of her anyway."

"Why do you do that?"

"Rubbing the ball against my leg helps with the pain," he told her evasively.

"You know exactly what I mean," she told him.

He shook his head. "I don't like being picked apart. It's easier to deflect."

Reilly looked at him with pain and sadness in her eyes. "You never did that with me before I left. We were always honest with each other. Always."

"You left."

"I thought you forgave me for that." She looked down at her hands. The wintry sunlight pouring through the windows glinted off the red and gold curls piled on top of her head. A few tear drops landed on her pale pink sweater.

"I did," he began. "I'm trying to. Losing you was horrible. It changed me. The pain changed me. Losing Niamh changed me."

She looked up at him and wiped the tears from her face with the back of her hand. "Leaving you changed me. Seeing you get shot changed me. Losing Niamh changed me. But, can't we help each other? I need you."

House put the ball on his desk and got up. He moved around the desk and sat in the chair next to Reilly. Taking her hand, he looked at her.

"I've always needed you," he told her. "You just have to lay off the matchmaking especially since you won't date."

She laughed and sniffled. "Okay," she told him. "You belong to me, Greg House."

He squeezed her hand. "You belong to me, Reilly McGrath."

She smiled and he reached up and wiped a tear from her cheek. "Now, go find our minions and get us a new patient."

She released his hand and got up. "I know where they hide," she told him. "I'll send them to scour the ER and the clinic."

"Get us an interesting one," he instructed.

She nodded and left. House got up and limped over to his lounger. He sank down in it with a sigh. Cameron walked in and carefully sat down on the footstool.

"You better stop eavesdropping," he told her. "You might hear us talking about you." He looked at her belly. Something moved beneath the beige sweater she wore. "I hope that was your baby moving otherwise you've got a creepy crawly under that massive sweater."

"He just kicked," she told him. She took his hand and placed it over her belly. He felt pressure beneath his palm.

"Active little guy," House commented as he pulled his hand away. "When are you due again?"

"March ninth."

"And your maternity leave starts…."

"Once I have him," she told him. "Then I'll be out for six weeks."

House looked her over. "Why not take time off before? Don't you have to build you little nest?"

"Nate is taking care of all that," she smiled. "I supervise. Besides, I'm healthy so there's no need to take additional time off. All I do is hang out here in the office. You won't let me see the patients."

"Because they all have weird diseases that could cause Soccer Guy, Junior, to come out all wrong."

"And that's why I can eavesdrop," she reminded him. "That whole you belong to me thing you and Reilly say, what is that?"

"She just likes to remind me that she knows all my deep, dark secrets and I do the same to her."

"Well, you're right," she told him with a smile.

"Of course I am," he responded. "About what?"

She stood up and stretched. "Everybody lies." With a smile, she turned and walked back into the conference room.


	40. Chapter 40

2011

On March eleventh, Cameron went into labor. Reilly called Nate while Kutner and Volakis walked with Cameron to the maternity ward. Cuddy was back at work and she stopped in several times to check on her. Early in the morning on March twelfth, Cameron gave birth to a six pound, nine ounce boy. He was twenty-one inches long and had a head full of dark hair. His parents named him Ethan Nathaniel Henderson. House was the only person who didn't call Cameron by her married name. She allowed it and everyone else either called her Allison or Doctor Henderson.

House waited until Cameron's husband left and then entered her room. She held Ethan as he nursed.

"Lucky kid," House smirked. Leaning heavily on his cane, he walked over to the chair beside her bed and sank down into it with a sigh. "You look good."

"Thanks," she smiled. "I feel good. All those things I heard about forgetting the pain of childbirth were lies, though. I will never forget how much it hurt. Epidurals are wonderful."

"Gonna stop you from squeezing out more?" House asked as he began to twirl his cane.

"Nope," she told him as she unsnapped her hospital gown and shifted Ethan to her other breast.

"Well, you've lost all sense of modesty," he commented as he leered at her.

She laughed. "Nothing you haven't seen before."

"Yes, but they weren't so big before. I like them. Cuddy been in to arrange a marriage between your two spawns?"

Cameron shook her head. "She's been in to visit. She's doing really well with Rachel."

"Yeah, I heard."

Cameron looked at him with shrewd eyes. "You still have a thing for her," she commented as she smoothed Ethan's hair.

"God, you sound like Reilly. I don't have a thing for Cuddy. Now her breasts….I do have a thing for them."

"Same old House," Cameron sighed.

"Comforting, isn't it?" He slowly got up. "Well, gotta go. Lots of paperwork to avoid." He looked down at Ethan and gently stroked his head with his fingers. "He's nice." Then he limped out of the room.

Cuddy entered the conference room with an armful of folders. Reilly looked up at her in surprise.

"Where's House?" Cuddy asked.

"It's only eight thirty," Volakis told her from the end of the table where she sat eating her breakfast. "He never gets in before ten."

Cuddy began to hand out the patient files she held.  
Kutner put his coffee down and flipped it open.

"Thirty-two year old male experiencing chronic pain all over," Cuddy told them. "He's seen over a half dozen specialists over the years. None of them could find the source of the pain or stop it."

"He's drug seeking-" Volakis began.

"Wait, Amber," Reilly said as she read over the file. "He tried to commit suicide by taking all the drugs in his medicine cabinet. He's not drug seeking. They ruled out fibromyalgia, rheumatoid arthritis, chronic fatigues syndrome...jeez, some doctors are idiots."

"I admitted him," Cuddy told her. "Call me when House gets here."

When Reilly looked up from the file, she was gone.

"Well, that was interesting," Kutner commented. "That's the third time this week she's been in here looking for House."

"Well, she is the boss," Volakis told him. Then she snickered. "Who has the hots for him."

"Amber," Reilly warned.

"Right, the patient," she said with a slight smile,

When House arrived, Volakis and Kutner were running tests on the patient and Reilly was listing symptoms on the whiteboard. He threw his backpack in his office and pulled his bottle of Vicodin out. Looking at the symptoms, he dry swallowed two pills.

"You're going to destroy the lining of your esophagus if you keep taking those without water," Reilly commented as she continued to write.

"His pain gets better when pressure is applied?" he asked ignoring her comment.

"Yep."

"Cool."

"Very cool,' she responded.

"Who found this delightful little gem?" he asked as he moved to the kitchenette. He grabbed his red mug and poured coffee in it. He poured in a generous amount of sugar and stirred it.

"Doctor Cuddy," Reilly told him. She capped the marker she was using and put it in the tray on the board.

Cuddy walked in and House turned to look at her.  
"Aren't you the busy little bee," he commented and took a sip of coffee. "This is the third case you've personally hand delivered. Need your daily dose of House, huh?" He winked at her.

"No," she said defensively.

Reilly slipped out of the room.

"Really?" House asked as he made his way over to her.  
He stopped and they stood so close their bodies nearly touched.  
"You sure about that?"

"I've just found some interesting cases," she said breathlessly.

"The breathiness of your voice along with your dilated pupils say otherwise," he said softly.

She looked up at him and her lips parted slightly. House stared at her mouth and then leaned down. His lips touched hers and then they were clawing at each other as heat raced through him. She kissed him with hunger and desperation. He groaned when she bit his bottom lip. His hand snaked up beneath her top and his hands closed over her breast. It swelled in his hand and she moaned into his mouth before deepening the kiss. Suddenly she pulled back and stood gasping. Her lips were swollen and her skin was flushed. Slowly, she looked up at him before turning to leave. House touched his lip where she bit him. He looked down and saw his coffee cup on the floor in a pool of coffee. Bending down, he picked up the cup and placed it on the table then he slowly limped into his office.

After several failed treatments, another suicide attempt by the patient and using lidocaine to try to stop his brain from sending pain signals to his body, House finally came up with the diagnosis of epilepsy. He didn't tell Cuddy. After their kiss, he began avoiding her. He knew Reilly was worried about him though she didn't say anything. She never asked what happened between him and Cuddy.

That night, House entered his apartment and tossed his backpack on the floor. He leaned back against the door and hung his head. He was exhausted. Everything was getting too complicated.

"Well, I was wonderin' when ya'd get home," Niamh said as she walked out of the kitchen.

House's head shot up and he stared at her in shock. Closing his eyes tightly, he rubbed his hand over his face. He was just so tired his mind was playing tricks on him. When Niamh lived with him and he came home late, this was how she greeted him. He pushed away from the door and slowly made his way down to the bedroom.

"You can try to avoid me all ya want," Niamh said from the bedroom. She lay on her side on the bed her head propped up on her hand.

"You're dead. You took the bus instead of calling me to come get you," he said. His voice shook with anger. "I would have come to get you. Why didn't you call me?"

"Because ya had a patient," she told him with a smile. She got up and walked over to him. "I know how important the puzzle is to ya, darlin'."

"It wasn't more important than you."

She tilted her head and looked at him with sadness in her bright blue eyes. "We both know only one person is more important than your medical puzzles. It's not me. We had fun. I was a good distraction from what ya really want. Who ya really want, Greg."

He walked around her and stripped off his shoes and clothes. She was lying on the bed again when he crawled beneath the covers. He turned his back on her and squeezed his eyes shut.


	41. Chapter 41

2011

Two weeks before Cameron was due to return from maternity leave, Reilly took Jenny to tour MIT. She was gone for a week. Niamh continued to follow House wherever he went. Nothing he did could stop the hallucination. During that time, House, Volakis, and Kutner caused the death of two patients. The first was a homeless girl who had a staph infection from a scratch on her back. Since no one did a thorough physical exam, they missed it and in an attempt to prepare her for a bone marrow transplant, irradiated her. Her immune system was destroyed and she developed sepsis. The next patient was a male quadriplegic. House took one look at his file, diagnosed strongyloides and ordered Kutner and Volakis to treat him. They decided to test him first. As they argued over who would administer the test, the medication was knocked on the floor. The patient's guide dog found it, ate it and died moments after his master did. In a fit of rage, House fired Volakis and Kutner and shut down the department. Niamh was always there, watching.

The following week, when House didn't show up for work, Wilson went to House's apartment and used his key to enter. The place was a mess. Empty takeout containers, newspapers, magazines, books and beer bottles were strewn everywhere. House sat on the couch, eating cereal, wearing his bathrobe, his feet propped up on the coffee table, staring at his bookcase.

"You can't fire your team and shut down the department," Wilson commented as he closed the door.

"Sure I can," House told him. "Actually, I already did."

"You need Reilly's approval," Wilson reminded him.

"We killed two patients in less than a week. I think that must qualify as some kind of record. If Cameron and Reilly were here, it never would've happened. So, when they get back, I'll hire a new team."

"Cuddy already re-hired your old team," Wilson informed him. "What are you staring at?"

House glanced over at him and then back at the bookcase. "Nothing. I was thinking when you came in and started lecturing me."

"You need to get dressed and get to the hospital. Cuddy has a patient for you."

"Nope."

"House."

"I'll go back when Reilly gets back," House informed him.

Wilson shook his head and left. Niamh smiled at House from her spot in front of the bookcase.

"You should've told him yer hallucinating, Greg," she said. "He could help ya."

"Don't need his help." He patted the couch. "Come sit down."

"Who are you talking to?" Reilly asked as she came in. "Eesh! I leave for a week and all hell breaks loose. This place is a pit again. I saw Wilson on my way in. He just growled at me. What's going on?"

He looked over his shoulder at her.

"Tell her," Niamh urged.

House swallowed. "I'm hallucinating."

Reilly's eyes widened and she came to sit on the coffee table. "Again? Who? How long? Do you know why?" she asked in a rush.

"It's Niamh. About a week. I don't know why. Could be the Vicodin. Could be something else. I'm not sure I want to stop. I miss her."

Reilly blinked several times. "I know you miss her. I miss her, too. But hallucinations, even of Niamh, aren't good. I want you to come to the hospital and let me run some tests. We'll do it using a fake name. If it is the Vicodin, you can go to rehab. I see a psychiatrist who runs a psychiatric hospital and rehab center. You could go, get clean and he could help you. I was a mess after the divorce and your shooting. Niamh's death was just too much. I can't even begin to imagine how you felt when she died."

"Didn't you listen to me?" he asked sharply. "I don't want her to go again."

"Greg. Something is wrong."

"She's right," Niamh told him. "Let her help ya."

House looked from Reilly back to Niamh. "I don't want to lose you again."

"Oh, Greg," Reilly said brokenly.

"Ye're not gonna lose me," Niamh assured him. "I'll always be with ya. But, you know I'm really yer own brain telling ya this, don't ya?"

He nodded. He knew she wasn't real. But, there was still a part of him that wanted her to stay.

"She didn't call me to pick her up," House told Reilly putting his cereal bowl on the floor. "If she had, she'd still be alive."

"Greg, my aunt was fiercely independent. She did what she wanted. She could have called me, too. But she didn't. She just didn't."

"I'll go get dressed," he told her. "I'll let you run the tests. But I'm not making any promises about rehab or therapy."

When he got up, Reilly got up, too. "Are you going to follow me into the bathroom?" he asked.

"Your bedroom door opens into the bathroom. There's also a window in there. I don't want you making a break for it," she told him.

House rolled his eyes and began to limp down the hallway. "Fine," he told her.

And hour later, Reilly and House entered the hospital. Cuddy came out of the clinic and fell into step beside them.

"Glad to see you both back," she said. "Now maybe things will get back to normal. Or as normal as they can be with you two." She stopped at the corner. "No more firing your team." She turned the corner and walked down the hallway. House pushed the button for the elevator. The car arrived and several people got out. House and Reilly entered and Reilly pushed the button for the fourth floor.

"If it's the Vicodin," House said softly. "I can detox at home."

Reilly sighed. "Okay."


	42. Chapter 42

2011

After running every test she could think of, Reilly came to tell House that it was the Vicodin causing him to hallucinate.

He nodded. "I'm going to see Cuddy," he told her.

House walked into Cuddy's office. She was taking her coat off the coat rack.

"Need you," he told her.

She stopped and held her coat. "Okay," she said. "What do you need?"

"I want to detox and I need your help," he told her.

"I can get you a bed-"

"No. Come home with me and help me," he told her.

She sighed. "I have to go home and relieve the nanny."

"Pay her overtime."

"House."

"Please."

She nodded and walked over to her desk. After calling the sitter, she walked with him out to the parking lot. She got into her car and followed him to his apartment.

They arrived at his apartment and Cuddy immediately began clearing the place of his Vicodin stash. Soon, he began to experience the painful withdrawal symptoms. Once she disposed of all his Vicodin, she wet a cloth and wiped the sweat from his face. She helped him to the bathroom and rubbed his back as he threw up repeatedly. She brought him ginger tea as he lay shaking on the bathroom floor. She helped him to the couch where he finally fell asleep.

When he awoke the next morning, she was gone. He felt amazing. His leg didn't hurt and he no craved Vicodin. He showered, dressed and went to the hospital. He walked into Cuddy's office. She glanced up at him and then back at the papers on her desk.

"I know you didn't come to apologize," she said sharply. "So tell me what you want and then get to work."

He frowned and moved further into her office. "Why'd you leave?" he asked.

"You called my daughter a bastard last night." she informed him coldly.

"No," he said shaking his head in confusion. "You came home with me. Helped me detox…."

Niamh appeared at his side. "Oh, my darlin' Greg," she sighed. "That's what you thought you wanted but it's not what happened."

Two visions of Cuddy collided in his mind. In one, she went home with him but the harder he tried to focus on it the further it slipped away. It was replaced by the memory of her calling him an asshole and slamming out of her office.

"No…" he said again closing his eyes. He felt Cuddy's hand on his face.

"Are you okay?" she asked with concern.

His eyes opened. "No," he whispered.

Everything seemed to slow down and jumble together. He was vaguely aware of Cuddy taking him to Wilson's office. He stood staring out the window at the pale sky. Suddenly, he was home and Wilson was packing a bag for him. Then they were pulling up in front of a clean, modern facility. Wilson parked and helped him get out of the car. Wilson carried his gym bag and walked in with him. Then he was in a hospital room. Two nurses helped him undress and put a hospital gown on. Neither spoke to him. One carried his bag out when they left. A moment later a tall, slightly overweight black man entered. He helped House into the bed and then another nurse was there with an IV stand. He felt a prick and darkness descended on him.

House was dimly aware of voices. Someone touched his hand and he felt an IV port being removed from it. Slowly, he opened his eyes. He looked past the nurse who was dealing with his IV and saw Reilly talking to the man he saw when he was admitted. Niamh was gone. He thought he would feel anguish and pain but he didn't. He looked at Reilly and felt relief.

"Good morning, Greg," the man said with a smile. He approached the bed. House became aware he was hooked to a catheter and pulled the blanket up to his chin.

"I'm Doctor Nolan," he continued. "We put you in a coma to let you sleep through the withdrawal from the Vicodin. I'm going to let the nurse finish up in here and then she'll bring you to my office."

Reilly stepped forward. "Hey," she whispered. "How are you feeling?"

"I don't see Niamh," he told her. "And my leg hurts but the pain is bearable."

She touched his arm. "I'll see you in Doctor Nolan's office, okay?"

He nodded. Once they left, the nurse removed the catheter and gathered it up with the bag.

"You need help getting up and into the shower?" she asked.

House swung his legs over the bed and slowly stood. He felt weak and shaky but he waved her away and limped into the bathroom. His underwear and toiletries bag sat on the sink. He turned on the water in the shower and stripped off his hospital gown. Stepping under the hot spray, he used the shampoo and soap in the stall. Once out, he brushed his teeth twice and combed his hair. He pulled on his clean boxer briefs. Grabbing his toiletries bag, he limped back into the room. His gym bag and cane were on the bare mattress. He quickly dressed and pushed the button for the nurse. He packed everything up while he waited for her. She finally arrived and led him down several corridors to an office. Opening the door, she stood back to allow him to enter. The office was large, bright and filled with comfortable furniture, plants and several abstract prints. Doctor Nolan sat behind a large mahogany desk in a big leather chair. Reilly sat in an armchair in front of the desk. She turned when he walked in and the nurse left, closing the door behind her.

Doctor Nolan smiled as he stood and walked around his desk. He motioned toward the couch against the far wall and the two chairs facing it. "Let's go sit down and talk for a few minutes."

House followed Reilly and Nolan. She sat on the couch and he sat down beside her. Nolan sat in one of the chairs and crossed his legs.

"I'm not staying here," House told him.

"Okay," Nolan responded. "That's your right since you admitted yourself voluntarily. I can give you the names of several very good psychiatrists so you can pursue outpatient therapy."

House looked at Reilly. She nodded slightly. "Sure," he replied. "Can we go now?"

"Of course," Nolan said. He rose and walked back to his desk. He pulled out several cards and brought them to House.

"Why can't I see you?" House asked suddenly.

"Conflict of interest," Nolan told him. "I'm Reilly's therapist."

House looked at her and then down at the cards. "Who's the best of this bunch?"

"They're all highly qualified but I think you'd work best with Doctor Davis. She deals with addiction among other things," Nolan told him.

"Then I'll see her," House said tucking her card in his pocket and leaving the others on the couch. "Let's go," he told Reilly.

She nodded and got up. House stood by the door while she thanked the doctor. Finally, she joined him and they walked down more corridors to a reception area. She stopped at the desk. House sighed loudly.

"I have to pay the bill," she told him.

"I'll pay it," he said.

She was taking a credit card out of her wallet. "This is courtesy of Smug," she smiled.

He suddenly realized he didn't have his wallet or his watch. He stood quietly while she settled the bill. Then she led him outside to her SUV. He got in and buckled his seatbelt. He tossed his bag on the floor near his feet and leaned his cane against the door. She got in, buckled her seatbelt and started the SUV. As she pulled out of the parking space, House's stomach growled.

"There's a great diner on the way back home," she told him. "We'll stop there and feed you. Then we'll stop and get your new prescription filled."

He nodded and looked out the window.


	43. Chapter 43

**A/N: Well apparently Firefox and Google Docs don't mix well. I'll have to continue to use Chrome to post this. Sorry about the gobbledy-gook.**

2012

House began seeing Doctor Davis every Thursday afternoon at two-thirty. She prescribed an antidepressant for him and once she gained his trust, he told her everything. For an hour each week, he opened up to her about the abuse, his parents, his leg, his relationships with Stacy, Cameron, Cuddy, Wilson, Niamh and Reilly. They discussed the underlying causes of his addiction and how to avoid triggers. She listened and helped him in ways he didn't know were possible. On a Thursday afternoon in August, he admitted he was in love with Reilly.

"Are you going to tell her?" Doctor Davis asked.

"I don't know how."

"You've known her most of your life. How do you want to tell her?"

He shrugged. "I can't just blurt it out. What if she doesn't feel the same way about me?"

"Then we'll deal with that. But, here's a fun question. What if she's in love with you? You said she hasn't dated anyone since her divorce. You have dinner with her every Friday night even if it's just take out in your office. Why not ask her out?"

House sighed. "Fine. I'll ask her out."

Doctor Davis smiled.

As he drove back to the hospital, he grew more excited about the idea of being with Reilly and taking their relationship to a new level. He put a blues CD in the car stereo, turned up the sound and put the top down. He smiled as the wind flowed over him. He parked and rushed into the hospital. He impatiently pushed the elevator button until the doors opened. When he reached the fourth floor, he made his way as quickly as possible to the Diagnostics department. It was empty. He turned and went to check all the areas he knew Reilly liked to go to when she needed some quiet time. She was nowhere to be found. Pulling out his phone, he dialed her number. It went straight to voicemail. He walked to Cuddy's office. He knew the girls were due to return to college soon. Maybe she was out running errands with them.

House flung open the door to Cuddy's office. She was wearing scrubs and pulling on dark blue coveralls with the hospital logo on them.

"Where are you going?" he asked.

"Crane collapsed on a building in Trenton," she told him. "What do you want?"

"You know where Reilly is?" he asked. "She isn't in any of her usual hidey-holes and she isn't answering her phone. Did she ask for the afternoon off?"

She zipped up the coveralls and grabbed a hair band off her desk. She pulled her hair up into a ponytail. "No. She's with the rest of your team at the accident site."

House frowned. "I'll come, too."

House pulled up to the crash site. He parked and got out, grabbing his cane as he did. Rows of injured people stretched out as far as he could see. The crane lay on its side and there was a huge crater where a building once stood. Lifting the tape surrounding the scene, he began looking for Reilly. He finally found her crawling out of a hole in a pile of rubble.

"What are you doing here?" she asked as she brushed dust and debris off her dark blue coverall. Dust covered her hair and face. House reached out and brushed it away. He planned to ask her out but now he'd have to wait.

"I'm here to help," he told her.

"Find Doctor Cuddy," she told him. "You can do triage."

"Someone trapped down there?" he asked.

She nodded. "A woman. Her name's Hanna. Her leg is trapped beneath the roof of the parking garage. I'm going to have to amputate."

"Hold on," House told her grabbing her arm. He looked over her shoulder and saw Cuddy. He gave a sharp whistle. Cuddy looked over at them and he inclined his head. She rushed over to them.

"What's going on?" she asked as she approached them.

"Reilly's going to lop off some woman's leg," he told her.

Reilly pulled her arm free of his hold. "It's trapped beneath a pile of rubble. I have to get her out."

"I think we should get the fire chief over here," House told her. "And see if they can get her leg free before you go down there with your big saw and start cutting her up."

Reilly looked at Cuddy who looked at House. "I'll go find the fire marshall," she told them and left.

"What the hell are you doing?" Reilly demanded. "Hanna will die if we don't get her out of there."

"And if we can free her leg, all the better," House told her. Leaning his cane against a pile of rubble, he bent to crawl down the hole.  
Reilly shook her head and followed him down.

House crawled along, putting most of his weight on his left leg and trying not to hit his head on the concrete. Finally, the tunnel opened out into a larger area. He still couldn't stand but he could scoot toward the frightened young black woman covered in concrete dust and sit beside her. Reilly checked the IV she started on Hanna and then moved to allow House access to her. He immediately began to examine her leg. Hanna watched watched him with wide, frightened eyes. A hand held lamp hung on a sharp section of rubble. Reilly moved to sit beside him.

"Who are you?" Hanna gasped.

"I'm Greg. I'm a doctor," he told her as he tried to lift the beam pinning down her leg. It didn't budge and some loose concrete slid down.

"Bring the light closer," he told Reilly.

She grabbed the light and held it over Hanna's trapped leg. He knew it was completely crushed. He looked at Reilly. He motioned her to follow him out. Reilly leaned over Hanna and spoke softly to her. Hanna nodded. Reilly and House crawled out and stood next to the hole. All around them medical personnel rushed around tending to patients. Helicopters flew overhead shining bright lights over the destruction. Firefighters and police officers worked to remove the rubble.

"What'd you give her?" House asked.

"IV fluids. Her BP was low," Reilly told him. "The leg is crushed. The longer we wait, the greater the chance she'll die."

"She should be the one to decide that," he told her firmly. "You tell me that often enough."

"She already refused, Greg," Reilly said in frustration. "We're running out of time. She's been down there for at least four hours. I know I say it's the patient's choice but she's going to die if we don't get her out of there. I refuse to let her die!"

Cuddy ran up to them. "The fire marshall is getting men and supplies to move the beam trapping Reilly's patient. They should be here any minute."

"I'm going back down," Reilly told them. "She's scared and alone." Turning, she ducked down and disappeared down the hole. House and Cuddy followed her. When they got to the area where Hanna was trapped, the fire marshall and two men crawled out behind them. The area was crowded so Cuddy went back up to the surface.

House leaned over Hanna. "I know you're in pain," he told her. "But we have to get you out of here. These men are here to try to move the beam off your leg. Do you understand what I'm saying?"

Tears coursed through the dust and dirt on her face. "Yes" she gasped. She turned to look at Reilly. "It hurts," she cried. "Can't you put me under or something?"

"I know it does," Reilly said soothingly. "But we need you to be awake. If we sedate you, you might stop breathing. I'm sorry."

"I'm Captain Anderson," the fire marshall whispered to House. "I don't know if this will work. Doc over there said she was going to amputate to get the woman out."

"Well," House whispered back. "At least try this."

"The building is resting on this beam. If we move it too much, everything could come down on top of us," Captain Anderson told him softly.

"Just do it," House hissed.

Anderson crawled over to Hanna and Reilly.

"I'm Captain Anderson," he told them. "We're going to use those airbags to try to lift the beam off your leg. I have to warn you, though, it may bring down more of the building. You want us to try?"

"Yes," Hanna sobbed. "I just want to get out of here and home to my husband."

Anderson nodded and pulled two wooden wedges from the pockets of his coat. He turned on the headlamp on his helmet and the two men with him did the same. The two firefighters began to pump up the airbags wedged beneath the large beam. Captain Anderson pushed wooden wedges beneath it on either side of Hanna's leg. There was a loud creaking sound and then concrete rubble rained down on them. House saw Reilly dive to cover Hanna before everything went black.

When House came to, a weak light spread over the debris covering all of them. Reilly groaned and tried to sit up. House got up on his hands and knees and crawled over to her. He took her arm and helped her sit up. Blood trickled down her face.

"Okay, so that didn't work," he said.

She coughed. "You think?"

"Let me tell her," House said.

"Is everyone okay?" Anderson asked. The two firefighters coughed and told him they were. Reilly nodded at him. House looked down at Hanna. She looked up at him with frightened eyes.

"I don't want to lose my leg," she told him.

"I know. I had a blood clot in mine several years ago. They wanted to amputate and I refused. They cut out a huge chunk of dead muscle. I ended up in pain. That pain changed me. It made me harder. It made me miserable. But my leg wasn't crushed, Hanna. Yours is. Even if we did manage to get it out, you'd develop something called crush syndrome. Trust me, you don't want to go through that. But, if you let Reilly amputate, we can get you out of here and to the hospital. Will you let her cut off your leg so we can get you out of here?"

"Is it really the only option?" she asked.

"I'm afraid so. You saw what happened when they tried to lift the beam."

She began to sob. Then she nodded. "Okay. She can do it."

"Reilly will do it as fast as she can," he told her.

House held Hanna's hand as Reilly amputated her leg. Hanna's screams of pain mixed with the sound of the saw. House noticed that tears ran down Reilly's face and dripped onto Hanna's thigh. When Hanna was free, the medics moved in and took over. Reilly and House followed them out and up to the surface. Hanna's husband was waiting for them beside the ambulance. He rushed forward and took Hanna's hand.

"I'm sorry," she gasped. "I know you love my legs, Charlie."

Charlie leaned down and kissed her. "It doesn't matter," he told her. "I love you."

"I love you, too," she told him.

The medics lifted her into the back of the ambulance. Charlie climbed up and sat beside her. House and Reilly also climbed in and Reilly hooked her up to an IV. She put an oxygen mask over Hanna's nose and mouth. Then she and House hooked Hanna up to the monitors. The siren droned as they sped to the hospital.


	44. Chapter 44

2012

Cameron watched as the ambulance backed up to the doors of the emergency room. It was eerily silent. She rushed forward and threw open the doors. Inside, the heart monitor emitted a long steady tone. A young black man lay over the woman in the stokes on the gurney. House and Reilly sat stone faced. Two orderlies came forward and looked at Cameron.

"Wait here," she told them. She leaned into the back of the ambulance. "House?"

"She had a fat embolism," he said quietly. "It hit her lung."

"Is that her husband?" she asked looking at the man crying into the woman's chest.

House nodded. "Name's Charlie."

House watched as Cameron spoke softly to Charlie and then helped him out of the ambulance. The orderlies moved forward and lifted the stokes up. They carried it between them into the hospital with Cameron and Charlie following.

"I killed her," Reilly murmured.

"No you didn't," House told her. "We didn't kill her. She was in the wrong place at the wrong time."

"I want to go home," she told him. "Take me home, Greg."

"I think we should go in and let Cameron take a look at you. You need that scalp wound looked at." He gently wiped the blood off her face.

"No, take me home!" she cried.

House took her face in his hands. "No," he told her. "You're hurt. You could have a skull fracture, bleeding or swelling in your brain. You're going in to let Cameron take care of you," he told her.

"I didn't get to say The Prayer For The Dead," she sobbed. "She said she didn't believe in God but asked me to pray with her. Now she's dead."

House pulled her into his arms.

"If I'd amputated sooner-"

"Stop," House told her. "She refused. You're the one who always follows the patient's wishes. Don't torture yourself."

She pushed away from him. "I need to check on the girls. Let them know I'm okay. Will you call them?" she asked.

"Yeah," he told her as he helped her out of the ambulance

She staggered and nearly fell as they walked through the doors to the emergency room "I'm so dizzy," she told him.

Her eyes rolled up into her head and House caught her before she hit the ground. He half-carried her half-dragged her to an empty bed. He got her up on it and then yelled for Cameron. Cameron ran over along with two nurses. After examining her, Cameron sent her for an MRI. In the adjacent room, House and Cameron sat watching the images of Reilly's brain and skull on the computer screen. Cuddy stood behind them.

"She has a skull fracture which is causing swelling," Cameron told him. "She's going to need surgery to relieve the pressure. Sarah will have to authorize it."

"I have her medical proxy," House informed her. "Do the surgery."

Cameron nodded and left. House watched the nurses transfer Reilly from the MRI to a gurney then roll her out of the room. He stood and started to follow them. Cuddy touched his arm.

"She's going to be okay," she assured him.

"You don't know that," he growled and left.

On the way to OR, he called Sarah and told her what was going on with her mother. Sarah told him she and Jenny would be there as soon as possible. House went up to the observation deck. Below him, the surgeon and OR staff were preparing Reilly for surgery. The door opened and Cameron, Wilson, Volakis, Kutner, Cuddy, Sarah and Jenny walked in and crowded around the window. Jenny crowded close to House and he put his arm around her. He held out his other arm to Sarah and she rushed over and leaned into him. Both wrapped their arms around his waist and held on tightly.

"What happened?" Jenny asked shakily.

"Debris fell on her at the accident site. She's got some brain swelling that they need to relieve," House told her.

"I begged her not to go," Sarah said dully.

"How long will she be here?" Jenny asked looking at House.

"I'm not sure," he told her honestly.

They released him and hugged each other. House put his hand on the glass and leaned forward. In the OR, the surgeon started to drill. Once the nurses wheeled Reilly to the recovery room, he pushed past the others and limped as fast as he could down the stairs. He entered the recovery room just as she was brought in. Her entire head was wrapped in sterile gauze and she was hooked up to a ventilator. He pulled a stool over and sat down next to her bed. Picking up her hand, he kissed the back of it. Cuddy watched from the doorway. Slowly, she turned and left them alone. Wilson was waiting for her in the hallway.

"He's in love with her," he said to Cuddy as she passed him.

"You don't know that," Cuddy replied as she stopped a few feet from him. "They're friends. He'd do the same for you."

"He wouldn't kiss my hand," Wilson responded. "He's in love with her and she's in love with him. Just...let him go."

She turned to face him. "Has he told you that? Has she?"

Wilson shook his head. "He hasn't said the words but I know him. He's been in love with her for a long time. As for Reilly, she probably wouldn't tell me."

"Well, until he says he's in love with her, I still have a chance," she informed him before turning and walking away.

Reilly awoke slowly. She could hear the beep and hum of machines. The sharp, astringent smell of the hospital stung her nose. Lifting her hand, she ran her fingertips over the gauze covering her head. Then she touched the nasal cannula before dropping her hand onto the bed. She turned and saw her mother sitting in the chair next to her bed. She was knitting.

"Mom?" Reilly rasped.

Meara's head shot up and she jumped out of the chair. Carefully she cupped Reilly's cheek and gently held her hand.

"You're finally awake," her mother sighed. "I'm goin' to get the nurse." She went to the door and called for a nurse.

After the nurse took Reilly's vitals, Meara pulled the chair close to the bed and sat down. She gave Reilly a few ice chips to suck on.

"Yer dad is with the girls," Meara told her. "Greg went home to shower. He'll be back. He's barely left yer side."

"How long have I been out?"

"Well, Greg said ya woke briefly after yer surgery and you've been asleep about fifteen hours now."

"How are the girls?" Reilly asked softly.

"They're fine. They'll be here later.. Jenny's madder than a wet hen about her dad, though."

"What's he done now?"

"Doug sent Jenny a new car. It arrived this mornin'. She sent it back," Meara laughed.

"She has a car," Reilly smiled. "One she bought herself with money from her tutoring jobs. He's an idiot."

"Oh, and to think I encouraged ya to marry him."

"Yes, you did," House said from the doorway.

Reilly smiled when she saw him. Meara stood up.

"Well, I best be gettin' back to yer place and make sure Gil hasn't spoiled those girls," she said as she leaned down and kissed her daughter's cheek.

Once she was gone, the neurologist came in and checked on Reilly. House hovered over her during the exam. She scribbled some instructions on Reilly's chart and left. House sat down in the chair and took Reilly's hand in his.

"They shaved your head," he told her.

"It'll grow back."

"The day of the accident I was looking for you," he told her. "I wanted to ask you out."

He looked at her intently.

"Like on a date?" she asked.

He nodded never taking his eyes from hers.

"I wish you'd found me," she told him. "I don't think I have any scarves to cover up my head."

"Does that mean you want to date?" he asked.

She smiled. "Yeah. But, I want to take things slow."

"Oh, Jesus," House groaned. "We've been friends forever. Why take things slow?"

"To make sure things will work out," Reilly told him.

"What about sex?" he asked. "How long will you make me wait?"

"Can I get released from the hospital before we start discussing that?"

"Fine."

"You could go ahead and kiss me, if you wanted to," Reilly told him with a smile.

House leaned over her and smiled. "Normally I wouldn't kiss a woman who just had a tube down her throat and hasn't brushed her teeth recently. I'll make an exception for you, though."

"Wow," she smiled. "How generous of you."

Slowly, he lowered his head and gently touched his mouth to hers. She parted her lips and slid her tongue into his mouth. He intensified the kiss and her hands slid up his arms, her nails digging into his skin. He pushed down the blankets covering her and slipped his hand beneath her hospital gown. She gasped into his mouth when his hand cupped her breast. He pulled back when her monitor began to beep shrilly. Her skin was flushed and her pupils were dilated. A slow, satisfied smile curved her lips.

A nurse appeared at the door. "Everything okay?" she asked House.

He nodded. "She's fine. Just a little glitch."

The nurse left.

"Damn, you are a good kisser," Reilly breathed.

"I know," he grinned as he sat down in the chair and took her hand. "I'm also good at other stuff."

"Yes," she replied with a saucy grin. "I remember a few girls shouting your name when we were roommates. Of course, they might have been faking."

"Doubt it," he told her. "I know what I'm doing."

Reilly started to laugh and then grimaced. "Okay," she sighed. "No laughing and no kissing until my head heals."

House smiled at her and stroked her cheek.


	45. Chapter 45

2012

A week later, Reilly was moved from the ICU to a room on the fourth floor. Kutner, Volakis and Cameron stopped in each day to see her. House stayed with her. He even slept in the room. They had a patient and House held the differential in her hospital room so she could participate. After the fifth day, Reilly was ready to go home. She completed all the post surgical tests and was tired of being confined to her bed. The neurosurgeon, Doctor Thompson, agreed she was ready to go home. She told Reilly she would need to say home on bed rest for at least three weeks and it would be longer before she was ready to drive.

"I'll move in," House said. "This way the girls can leave and Aunt Meara can go home."

Reilly smiled at him. "Sounds like a plan."

Early the next morning, he drove her home and helped her out of the car and up to the house. After he unlocked the door, and took her arm, she sighed in frustration.

"Don't hover," she told him. "I can walk just fine."

"I know that but you scared the hell out of me," he told her. "So, humor me."

She slumped slightly. "I'm sorry."

Sarah and Jenny came running down the stairs followed by Meara. They crowded around her, each trying to hug her. Reilly laughed and allowed them to lead her upstairs. When she entered her bedroom, she laughed. There was a mini fridge beside her night stand. A small plasma television sat on her dresser along with a DVD player and cable box. Books, medical journals and magazines were piled next to the window seat.

"Well," she said as she walked over to the bed and sat down. "Someone's been busy."

Meara nodded. "Greg ordered all the geegaws and set everything up for ya."

"Well, thank you," Reilly smiled at him. She kicked off her shoes and swung her legs up on the bed. Sinking back into the pillows, she sighed. Meara covered her with a light blanket and kissed her forehead. Then she gently ran her hand over Reilly's head avoiding the bandages covering her cut and the place where the surgeon drilled.

"How's your head feel?" she asked.

"I'm okay, Mom," Reilly assured her. "I'm just a little tired." She looked at the girls who hovered behind their grandmother. "When does your plane leave?" she asked them.

"This afternoon at three," Sarah answered. "We don't have to go."

"Yeah, you do," House told them. "You have to finish college, Sarah. And you have to go do your Peace Corps gig, Jen. I'm going to stay and take care of your mom."

They looked at each other and then back at their mother.

"Well, if Greg's staying, then we'll go," Sarah said with a slight smile. She looked at her sister. "Let's finish packing and then we can take Gran to the airport and do some shopping before we leave." They both kissed Reilly and then left the room.

"I should go finish up my packin'," Meara told them. "My plane leaves at twelve. I'll be back to say goodbye."

Once they were alone, House stretched out next to Reilly. He nuzzled her neck. She turned to kiss him when the phone rang.

"Don't answer it!" Jenny shouted. "It's Dad again!"

House groaned and lay back. Reilly put her hand on his chest.

"He's upset that Jenny wants to wait a year before going to college," Reilly reminded him.

"It's not like she's going to be sitting on her ass," House groaned.

"Well, they'll be gone soon and then you have my permission to talk to him if he calls again."

House propped himself up on one elbow and grinned down at her. "Oh, I will." Leaning down, he kissed her gently. She responded with passion and then yawned.

"Well," he sighed against her lips. "That's a huge blow to my ego."

"Nothing could even dent that massive thing," she teased and then yawned again.

"Go to sleep," he told her. "I'll wake you before they leave."

The next day, House awoke and stretched. Reilly lay on her back beside him, her mouth slightly open, snoring softly. Carefully, he got out of bed and grabbed his cane. After a quick trip to the bathroom, he sat down on the bed beside Reilly. He poured out some water into a glass and then got her medications. He leaned down and kissed her cheek.

"Wake up," he whispered in her ear. "I've got drugs."

Her eyes fluttered open and she smiled sleepily at him. "Morning."

"You snore," he said as he helped her sit up.

"Oh, shit," she sighed. "Did I keep you awake?"

He laughed. "Any other woman would deny it." He handed her the pills and water. She took them and drank all the water.

"If you say I snore, then I snore," she responded. "Gotta pee."

He got up and helped her to the bathroom. When she finished, he helped her back to bed.

"You hungry?" he asked as he got her settled comfortably.

"Yeah, but I can go downstairs and eat," she told him.

"Bed rest, remember?"

"That doesn't mean I have to lie in bed all day."

He put his hands on either side of her and looked down at her. "I'm offering to make breakfast and bring it up here to you," he told her. "You really gonna pass that up?"

"I want pancakes and sausages," she grinned.

The persistent ringing of the doorbell ringing woke both House and Reilly the next morning. House growled, got out of bed, grabbed his cane and made his way downstairs.

"What?" he shouted as he flung the door open.

Cuddy looked at him in shock. "What are you doing here?"

"I was sleeping!"

"Doctor Cuddy?" Reilly asked as she walked up behind House and put her hand on the small of his back. "Is something wrong?"

"I wanted to check on you," Cuddy told her without taking her eyes off House. "I thought your mother was staying with you."

"No," Reilly yawned. "Sorry. She went home when the girls left. Greg is staying with me."

"I notified your craptastic assistant and the board. Obviously your assistant didn't tell you which doesn't really surprise me," House told her. "Cameron is in charge while we're out."

"Well, I'm sorry I woke you two up," Cuddy said and shifted her gaze to Reilly. "How are you? Are you experiencing any headaches, dizziness, numbness?"

"I'm doing much better," Reilly told her. "Greg's taking very good care of me. Would you like to come in for some coffee?"

Cuddy shook her head. "I have to get to work." She shifted her purse from one shoulder to the other. "If you need anything…."

"Thanks," Reilly told her.

Cuddy nodded and turned away. House closed the door.

"Back to bed?" he asked.

Reilly nodded and followed him upstairs.

A few nights later, House awoke to an empty bed. Getting up, he carefully made his way downstairs to the living room. Reilly sat at the piano playing _Ave Maria_. A single lamp spread a pool of light over her. She still wore bandages on her head but her hair was beginning to grow. It was barely more than a fine mist of red but she was no longer completely bald.

"You only play that song when something's bothering you," he said as he sat down beside her on the piano bench. He leaned his cane against the piano and looked at her.

"You know how I said I want to take it slow?" she asked as she continued to play.

"I recall that vividly."

"I don't want to. I want to sell this house and get one we can live in together. I don't want to live apart any more. I love you." She bit her lip. "I'm in love with you. I want to be with you. I love sleeping next to you. I love having you so close to me."

"I love you, too," he told her. "And we can get a new house but there isn't really anything wrong with this one."

"The stairs."

"You noticed."

"Yeah," she replied. "I want you to be comfortable."

"Okay, then we'll buy a house without stairs. But that can wait. And I don't think that's what's really bothering you."

"I suck at sex," she whispered.

House put his arm around her and kissed the curve where her neck met her shoulder. "Why don't you let me decide that?"

"You say sex is very important. I know it is because that's why Doug said he left me. I'm frigid."

"Smug's an arrogant asshole."

"What if he's right? I don't like having sex," she told him.

House sighed. "You aren't cleared to have sex yet. Can we please go back to bed and worry about this later? Like when we actually have sex?"

"I don't want you to leave me because of that."

He took her hands from the piano keys and turned her so she faced him. "I am not going to leave you," he whispered. "Ever. You are never getting rid of me."

"Promise?" she asked with a worried expression,

He smoothed the furrows between her eyes. "I promise. No can we go back to bed?"

She laughed. "Yes."

They stood and House put his arm around her. He pulled her in for a deep kiss.

"Okay," he said once he pulled back. "Now I'm ready to go back to sleep."


	46. Chapter 46

2012

A month after Reilly's surgery, Doctor Thompson cleared her to return to work. She wanted Reilly to wait about another month before assessing her ability to drive again.

Reilly stood in her closet looking at her clothes. It was warm so she chose a sleeveless blue dress with a full skirt. She hung it on the back of the closet door and then walked out into the bedroom. House sat in the middle of the bed smiling.

Reilly walked over to the bed and looked at him dubiously.

"I know that smile," she told him. "You want to do it now."

"It's not torture, you know," he said. "It's a beautiful act of love between-"

"I got that speech from Mom when I was sixteen."

House shook his head and a frown creased his face. "That old? Really?"

"I'm surprised she told me at all," Reilly laughed as she sat on the bed and faced him. "She also said it was the most amazing thing and she loved it."

"Well, I'm guessing Nan enjoyed it, too," he smirked referring to her grandmother.

Reilly looked down. "I don't want to disappoint you."

"You won't disappoint me. Sex is always good for me. I'm a man, I get enough stimulation and I'm gonna have a happy ending." He lifted her chin. "I would not say this to any other woman but I don't want to disappoint you. Every man you've had sex with has disappointed you. You labor under the delusion it has something to do with you. It doesn't. Until me, you were involved with self-absorbed assholes." He widened his eyes and Reilly laughed. Then she blew out some air and moved closer to him.

"Kiss me," she told him in a husky voice.

"What about work?" he asked.

"We'll be late."

Shifting on the bed, he pulled her into his arms and kissed her. She returned the kiss with passion. When they pulled apart she was panting.

"If I do anything to hurt you or that doesn't feel good, tell me," he whispered before lowering her to the bed and kissing her again.

Sliding his hands beneath the simple cotton gown she wore, he pulled it over her head. She tugged his t-shirt over his head and then ran her hand over his chest and down his stomach. He reached out and gently touched her right breast. His finger circled her nippled which puckered and grew taut. She gasped. He looked at her and saw her eyes were closed and a faint blush bloomed on her cheeks. Lowering his head, he flicked his tongue over the hardened peak. She moaned and he placed his hand over her other breast which swelled beneath his palm.

"Okay so far?" he whispered.

"God, yes," she responded breathily,

He kissed his way down her stomach and ran his hand along the inside of her right thigh. He was rock hard and as he moved closer to her his erection bumped against her hip. She opened her eyes and looked down. She removed her panties and spread her legs.

"Okay," she whispered.

House shook his head and stroked the smooth curve of her thigh. He got out of his pajama pants and pulled her closer. He kissed her again and she responded eagerly. Then he began to make love to her in earnest. He kissed and stroked every inch of soft skin until she was shaking and sweating. When his hand slipped between her legs, she jerked against him. His finger slipped between her folds and brushed against her slick clit. She squirmed on the bed and moaned his name. He lay back.

"Straddle me," he whispered.

Slowly, she pushed herself up and swung one leg over his hips. He gripped her waist and maneuvered her until she was directly over his cock. Slowly and carefully, he guided her down until he was deep inside her. He smiled at her sharp intake of air. Bracing her hands on his stomach, she began to move. He guided her movements until they were moving in unison. Sweat coated both their bodies and she sighed and moaned as he moved inside her. He began to rub her clit again and her eyes flew open. She looked at him in shock then arched her back and let out a guttural moan as he felt her inner muscles pulsate against him. A moment later his body seemed to explode. The most intense orgasm he ever experienced surged through him. He was unaware of anything except Reilly and her body moving on him. Slowly, he began to relax and grow soft. Reilly collapsed on the bed next to him.

"Do you get it now?" he panted as he turned his head to look at her.

"Oh, yeah. That is fantastic!"

He laughed. "Told you so."

She snuggled close to him and covered them with the sheet. "We are going to do this all the time," she whispered against his ear.

"Yeah we are," he responded with a sleepy smile.

"Is it normal to be this exhausted?" she asked and yawned.

"Yeah."

"I want to sleep but we need to get to work," she sighed. "I guess I could call and say I'm not feeling well."

House sat up and called Cameron. Reilly laughed softly and lay back against the pillows. When he hung up, House lay down next to her and pulled her into his arms. She pulled the covers over them and within seconds, they were both sound asleep.

A few hours later, Reilly awoke and looked over at House. He lay on his side his back to her. The sheet and blanket was bunched around his waist. Reaching out, she traced the indentation of his spine. His skin was smooth beneath her hand. A low hum of pleasure rumbled from him. He rolled over and blinked sleepily at her.

"May I experiment?" she whispered.

"Go nuts," he smiled.

She moved closer to him and stroked his face, neck, chest and stomach. Pushing the sheet off him, she ran her fingers overs his left leg. She shifted and her hand skimmed over his right leg. Then she pressed close to him and lightly grasped his half-erect cock. As her fingers closed around him, he became hard. Slowly, she stroked him and he moaned. Her heart began to race as she continued her exploration of his body with her mouth and hands. She moved over him and sat on his stomach, supporting most of her weight on her bent legs. Leaning down, she stroked his nipples as she kissed him. She spent several minutes kissing him and running her hands over him. He was coated in sweat and doing all he could to keep from exploding all over her and the bed. He could feel her wetness against his stomach. Finally, she lay back and he moved over her. He thrust into her, his arms trembling as he balanced his weight on them. She wrapped her legs around him and grabbed his shoulders. It only took her a moment to match his rhythm. He lowered his body onto hers and continued to pump in and out of her. He sank his fingers into her short curls and kissed her. Their sweat slicked bodies slid against each other. He kissed her flushed cheeks. Her nails pierced his skin as her orgasm shook her. Then he let go and shuddered, moaning her name as his own orgams pounded through him.

He rolled off her and they lay side by side, panting.

"Sex is very good with you," she whispered. "Just so, so fantastic."

"It's good with you, too," he sighed. "Best ever."

She rolled over and looked at him. "Really?"

He turned his head and looked into his eyes. "Really," he assured her.

They entered the hospital the next morning holding hands. Cuddy watched them from the desk in the clinic. Taking a deep breath, she walked out and caught up to them at the elevator.

"House," she said as he punched the button with the tip of his cane. "In my office. Now."

The doors parted and Reilly stepped into the elevator car. She smiled at him. "I'll go start the coffee," she told him.

He nodded and turned to follow Cuddy back to her office. She turned to face him once he closed the doors.

"Are you still living with her?" she asked. She turned and folded her arms.

He narrowed his eyes and looked at her. "Yeah, I am. Not that's it's any of your business."

"It is my business," she informed him. "You two run a department together. When you break up-"

"I'm not breaking up with her," he interjected. "I'm in love with her. I'm not leaving her."

"Really?" she scoffed. "You've blown up every relationship you've been in."

"Let's be clear about that," he said moving around her to sit on the couch. "I only blew up my relationship with Stacy because I didn't trust her after what the two of you did to me. Cameron and I broke up but we're still friends. Niamh died." Tapping his cane on the floor between his feet, he looked at her. "I never had a relationship with you beyond employer and employee."

"We made love!" she reminded him in a strident tone. "And you kissed me!"

He sighed and stood up. He walked to the door. "We fucked once years ago. And it was one kiss." He put his hand on the door handle. "I have loved Reilly for over fifty years. That trumps anything I had with you."

He opened the door and walked out. Cuddy slowly shut the door.

Cuddy walked into Wilson's office. He looked up at her as she began to pace his office. Putting down his pen, he waited for her to speak.

"You were right," she said finally as she stood at the glass door leading to the balcony. "He does love her." She tapped her hand on the door handle. "I need to move on."

"That sounds like a good plan," Wilson responded.

"I met a man the other day. Lucas Douglas. He wants to have coffee with me. He gave his number. I'm going to call him."

"I think you should."

She turned and walked over to the door leading out to the hallway. Putting her hand on the doorknob, she looked over at him.

"I thought I was in love with him," she said. "Then I saw them this morning and I realized that I was in love with a notion of him I've held on to since college. Reilly is in love with House and he's in love with her." She opened the door and left.

Wilson picked up his pen and went back to work.


	47. Chapter 47

2013

House entered the conference room and stopped when he saw Kutner writing out symptoms on the board.

"We have a patient with CIPA?" he asked as he tossed his backpack into his office. "That's a diagnosis not a symptom."

"She and her mother were involved in a car accident last night," Cameron told him as he moved to the table to pick up a file.

Reilly brought him some coffee and sat down next to him. "They did x-rays, an EEG, and blood work. No breaks from the car accident, no neurological issues but now she's spiked a fever. They got her cooled down but she wants to see her mom and she's apparently strong. She got away from them this morning and fell off the balcony in the lobby. Her leg is broken."

"Her brain doesn't process pain signals," House muttered. Tossing the file on the table, he picked up his cup. He looked at Kutner. "Go biopsy a spinal nerve."

"Wait!" Reilly told Kutner. She leaned in close to House. "Can I talk to you?" she whispered.

"I don't know? Can you?" he asked innocently.

"Office," she ordered as she stood up. "Now." She turned to the team. "Someone take Hannah to see her mom."

She strode past House into his office. He followed more slowly sipping his coffee. When they were in the office and the door closed behind him, she turned to face him.

"You are not grafting that child's spinal nerve into your leg," she informed him. "She could end up paralyzed and you could end up with an infection from the nerve or Host Graft Disease. Ending your pain isn't worth risking your life or hers."

"Is this how things are going to be now?" he asked stonily.

She sat down. "You can't risk the wellbeing of a patient for your own gain. I know your leg hurts. I know the pain is overwhelming." She looked up at him. "I can't risk losing you."

He leaned heavily on his cane and looked down at the floor. "The pain is unbearable sometimes. I don't want to alienate you because of it."

"What about methadone instead of the gabapentin?" she asked. "It's used for chronic pain."

"In patients with terminal cancer. We don't know the effect it will have," he told her as he sank down in his office chair.

"We'd just be replacing one pain med-" she began.

"For a synthetic one. You gonna stay awake to make sure I don't stop breathing while I'm sleeping?" he asked as he rubbed his thumb across his forehead. "The gabapentin and physio help me think. What if the methadone screws with that?"

"You can't biopsy her spinal nerve," Reilly said firmly.

"You don't understand chronic pain," he told her.

"You're right, I don't. But I do know all the things that can go wrong if you try to transplant that nerve into your leg." She shook her head. "It's your leg but you have to get permission from the mom. Informed permission."

"If I inform her, she'll never consent," he sighed in exasperation.

"That's the only way you can do it. You have no medical reason to biopsy a spinal nerve, Greg. If she agrees and her daughter ends up paralyzed-"

"I KNOW!" he shouted. He got up. "I'm staying at my place tonight."

Reilly rolled her eyes. "Seriously? You aren't getting your way so you're going back to your place to pout?"

"Maybe it's better if we just remain friends," he told her.

"No."

He turned to look at her in surprise. "No? I thought relationships were two way streets or some bullshit like that."

"They require give and take. They require compromise," she told him. "You don't get to leave just because you don't get your way. I'm compromising. You can get informed permission to get the nerve. Compromise. I love you. I don't want you to be in pain but I also know how reckless you can be because of it."

She walked over to him and put her hand on his chest. "I also love those mind-blowing orgasms. You are not cheating me out of them just because you aren't getting what you want. No way, man. Not gonna happen. You go to your place, I'll just come stay there."

House began to laugh. "So, I'm just your sex slave?"

She nodded. "Pretty much. Though I like to think of you as my boy toy. My sexy beast." She waggled her eyebrows. "I'm not giving up that hot House lovin'."

He kissed her forehead. "Okay, you win," he smiled.

All traces of humor and teasing vanished from her face. "No. There's no winning here. We can ask Mrs. Morgenthal if she'll give permission for us to biopsy a nerve from Hannah's spine."

He shook his head. "You're right. Too much can go wrong. We should concentrate on figuring out what's wrong with the kid."

"Okay."

He took her hand and they returned to the conference room.

The next day Volakis suggested Hannah might have a tapeworm.

"What makes you think that?" Reilly asked.

Volakis looked down at the file. She muttered something.

"Come on, now, share with the class," House told her as he looked over the symptoms on the board.

"I biopsied a nerve," Volakis said clearly. "Not a spinal one. One a little further out. I took her to see her mother again last night. She started to cry and said her head hurt. CIPA patients can't cry or register pain. It was interesting so I biopsied a nerve. The insulation around the bundles was stripped bare. So, I tested her B12 level. It was practically non-existent. Since they gave her B12 in the ER, tapeworm seemed the most likely cause."

"And you didn't tell us this because…." House asked turning from the board to frown at her.

"You or Reilly have to authorize an MRI and I couldn't reach either of you last night."

"Do the MRI," Reilly told her.

An hour later, House rolled the teenager screaming and fighting into an occupied OR and proceeded to remove a twenty inch tape worm from her stomach. Hannah stopped screaming and lay on the gurney staring up at the ceiling.

One of the nurses snapped a picture of it with her cell phone.

"I could have one of those in me?" another nurse asked in shock.

"Nope," Kutner replied as he held out a basin for the worm. "You'd be in terrible pain." He put the basin on a table. "Want me to close?" he asked House.

House nodded and snapped off his gloves. He looked at Reilly and inclined his head. She walked around the gurney and put her arm around his waist. Cameron handed him his cane and Reilly and House walked out.

"I want to run something past you," he said as they walked down the hallway.

"Okay."

"Why don't you move in with me while your house is up for sale? I could help you pack things up."

She smiled at him. "I would love that," she told him. "And I can hire someone to box everything up. The girls already put everything they aren't taking with them in storage. I can add the rest until we find a new place. Or I could just live with you in your apartment."

He shook his head. "We need someplace new. A fresh start."

"Then I'll make some calls," she told him. "I'll sell the piano and the furniture."

House stopped. "You don't have to sell your things."

"The furniture is from the house in California all of which Smug chose and he bought me the piano once I found out he had an affair. After one of our many fights, he sold the piano Mom and Dad gave me to teach me a lesson."

"I'm gonna kill that fucking asshole," House growled.

"He's not worth the effort," she told him. "I can play your piano."

Leaning forward, he kissed her gently. "Our piano."

She smiled. "Our piano."

"So, how soon can you move in?" he asked as they began walking again.

"I can go pack up all my clothes right now and move in today."

"Well, go," he told her. "Clear out any space you need."

She kissed him and raced down the hallway.

House sat on the couch watching television while Reilly cooked dinner. They'd been living together for a month. She managed to make all their clothes fit in his armoire and dressers. While doing that, she did all their laundry and arranged all his clothes so they wouldn't be wrinkled. They worked together to keep the apartment clean along with other chores. House found he didn't mind them since Reilly was always there with him. She cooked nearly every night and all the take out menus were stuffed in a drawer in the kitchen. He changed channels and the smell of pizza wafted into the living room. He sniffed appreciatively and settled more comfortably on the couch. Reilly walked out of the kitchen and sat down beside him. He looped an arm around her neck and pulled her in for a deep kiss. Her hand slipped beneath his t-shirt and he moaned softly when her nails lightly grazed his nipple. His own hand had just closed over her left breast when the doorbell rang. She broke away and smiled at him. Jumping up, she circled the couch and opened the door. Wilson and Volakis smiled at her.

"Come in," she told them. Just as she was about to close the door behind them, Kutner and Cameron opened the street door. Reilly opened the door farther and waved them in. House tilted his head back and looked at Kutner.

"You bring it?" he asked.

Kutner held up a game and extra controller. House snapped his fingers and pointed at the television. Kutner sprang forward. Reilly turned to Wilson.

"There are two pizzas in the oven," she told him. "Take them out when the oven timer rings and let them sit for five minutes before you slice them. I also made my mom's Guinness Cheese spread with Irish Soda bread. There's plenty of beer, too."

"Got it," Wilson nodded.

Reilly grabbed her purse, leaned over the couch and kissed House. "Thank you for inviting Larry," she whispered in his ear. She stood up.

"Let's go," Volakis said with her hand on the door knob.

The nightclub was loud and crowded. Reilly, Cameron and Volakis danced and laughed. When the song ended they went back to the bar. Cameron and Volakis ordered more tequila and Reilly ordered another club soda.

"Why don't you and Wilson get married?" Cameron shouted drunkenly at Volakis.

"Because he wants it too much!" Volakis shouted back before downing her drink and then slamming her glass down on the bartop. "And I don't want him to cheat on me! I already have to share him with House!" She looked past Cameron at Reilly. "When are you and House getting married?"

"Yeah!" Cameron whooped holding up her empty glass. "He is so in love with you!"

 _California Gurls_ began to blast from the speakers and Reilly put her glass down. "Dance!" she shouted. She whirled out onto the dance floor. Cameron and Volakis followed and all talk of marriage ended.

House was sprawled on the couch watching TV when Reilly came in. He looked over at her and smirked. "You've got paint all over you."

"It glows in the dark," she told him as she kicked her shoes off. "They were doing body painting."

"Your whole body?" he asked with an arched eyebrow.

"No not my whole body. Amber did the whole body thing. And her paint is edible. James is going to have fun."

"Is yours edible?" he leered as he sat up.

"No," she told him. "But you can help me wash it off." She stripped her top off and tossed it at him. He got up and followed her to the bathroom. He unhooked her bra as she slid out of her jeans. While he undressed, she turned on the water and put the plug in the tub drain. Once the tub was filled with steamy water, she turned the faceuts off.

"No smelly stuff," he whispered as he wrapped his arms around her.

She laughed softly and turned to face him. Leaning in, she kissed him. Her tongue slid into his mouth and tangled with his.

"You taste like limes," he whispered against her lips.

"The girls did tequila shots," she murmured as she trailed kisses along his jaw. "They put the salt on my neck and then sucked the lime out of my mouth."

House moaned as he licked her neck. "Jesus that is hot."

"How was your night?" she asked as she pulled away and helped him into the tub. She got in and settled between his legs. Leaning back against him, she sighed.

"I beat Kutner and Wilson at Halo," he told her as he grabbed a washcloth and rubbed soap over. Lifting her right arm, he began to wash the paint off it. "And there's no food or beer left. Kutner is okay. I invited him to join my poker game."

"The one James has been begging you to join?"

He rinsed her arm before starting on the left one. "Yep. Wilson pouted."

"You should let him play," she sighed. "Amber wants Allison and me to join the yoga class she goes to on your poker nights. He'll be all alone."

"I thought you liked going bowling with him," House commented as he wiped the paint off her face. "Where's that expensive stuff you wash your face with?"

"In the medicine cabinet," she replied with a yawn. "We do like bowling with him but we'd rather go to yoga class."

"Fine," he grumbled. "He can come."

Reilly leaned her head back against his neck. "He'll be so happy," she yawned again. House picked up her hands and began to play with her long fingers.

"I found a couple houses that might work for us," he told her.

She turned her head slightly. "Let's live here. We could redo the floors, repaint, buy new furniture, maybe even gut the bathroom," she said. "Most of this stuff is left from when you and Stacy lived here anyway. We could make it brighter and more...us."

"I like the not moving part," he said. "And this place could stand some updates." He yawned loudly. "Let's go to bed and discuss all this later."

"Good idea," she sighed. "Dancing is exhausting."


	48. Chapter 48

**A/N: OldSFfan, you will read in the next chapter how House and Reilly make his apartment work for the two of them. :D**

2014

"I can't believe I let you talk me into this," House complained. He leaned close to the mirror and ran his finger along the neck of his tuxedo shirt. It felt like an ever tightening noose around his neck.

"It's Kutner's wedding so man up," Wilson told him as he nudged him aside to look in the mirror. "He could have gone the traditional Hindi route and made you wear a Kurta." Reaching up, he smoothed his hair and checked his teeth.

"Jesus, you are vain," House complained as he sank down onto an overstuffed chair in the stuffy, ornate room. "He had to pick the hottest day of the year and a place where the air conditioning isn't working."

Wilson turned his head from side to side as he continued to gaze into the mirror. "They're working on fixing the A/C," he assured House. "And it isn't that hot."

House tugged on his collar again and leaned back in the chair. "I don't even know why he'd ask me to be his best man," he sighed. "He should have asked one of his geek squad to do it."

Wilson turned from the mirror. "You're wrinkling your tux," he commented. House shrugged. "Which you don't care about," he continued as he adjusted his own tux jacket. "Larry asked you to be his best man because you're his friend and you introduced him to Sherry."

"Huh," House grunted. "Think Kutner minds that she was a hooker?"

Wilson's eyes widened and his eyebrows climbed up his forehead. "Sherry was a hooker?" he asked incredulously. "You're letting Kutner marry a hooker?"

House folded his hands behind his head and stretched his legs out. "I'm not letting him do anything. Sherry was leaving my place and Kutner came by so I introduced them. A few days later she asked for his number and I gave it to her. That is the extent of my involvement with their pair bonding."

Wilson put one hand on his hip and squeezed the bridge of his nose with the other. "Does Reilly know that your PT is a hooker?" he grimaced.

"Was a hooker," House clarified. "It's how she paid for school. And yes, Reilly knows. And before you ask, no, she doesn't care what Sherry did to me while going to school. Now I get PT and a massage but no more happy endings. Now I get my happy endings from Reilly and she is fine with that."

Wilson placed his other hand on his other hip and shook his head. "I don't know of any other woman who wouldn't be jealous and demand you fire Sherry."

House blew out some air and looked directly into Wilson's eyes. "Reilly trusts me. She knows I love her and won't do anything to mess things up between us. I trust her, too. We talk about everything going on in our life." He smiled slightly. "I like it. She's not all judgemental like some people I could name."

Wilson ignored the jab and carefully sat down next to House. "How is the renovation going?"

House rolled his neck and groaned. "Never ending. Remember that time the place flooded? Well, all the foundation, subfloors and support beams have to be replaced. The contractor is saying it will be another six months since Reilly told him to gut the place and add on to the bathroom and bedroom. I thought we'd be done by now. We've been living in that crappy rental near the hospital for a year now."

"But, think how great it will look when it's all done."

" _If_ it gets done."

Kutner appeared in the doorway and smiled at them. "Ready?" he asked.

"No." House sighed. "But let's do it anyway."

The ceremony was over quickly and all the guests drove a short distance to a nice hotel for the reception. Reilly and House sat and watched as Kutner danced with his new bride.

"Does this make you want to get married again?" House asked as he took a sip of his scotch and soda.

Reilly glanced at him. "Does this make _you_ want to get married?" she asked in return.

"People get married to procreate," House commented as he watched Kutner and Sherry exchange a kiss. "You've already procreated."

"People also get married because they want to legally tie themselves to another person," she countered. She took a sip of her martini. "I don't need a piece of paper to keep me tied to you."

House tilted his head. "Neither do I."

Reilly smiled and shook her head. How typical of Greg to bring up marriage just to let her know he didn't need to marry her; that what they had was enough.

The newlyweds finished their dance and a large glass box was rolled onto the dance floor. It was filled with water.

"Oh, Jesus," House sighed. "They hired that magician. I don't want to see some hack pull a key out his mouth underwater. I want to eat."

"We just ate during the cocktail hour," Reilly told him. "You went back twice. You can't possibly be hungry."

"I can be bored."

The magician entered and went through his routine. He called a giggly bridesmaid up to test the container and the water. House sighed loudly as the man was lowered, handcuffed, into the water. The magician wriggled around and then went still as a thin stream of blood floated upward in the water. Two men ran forward and broke the glass. The magician slid across the floor unconscious.

Reilly looked at House. "Still bored?" she asked.

"Nope. Looks like we've got a new patient."

The magician, Finn, was taken to the ER where he was stabilized before being moved up to the fourth floor. Reilly and Volakis went straight from the reception to the hospital so they could begin running tests. House went home and tired to sleep. He tossed and turned as his mind went over all the reasons a person would lose consciousness after being lowered into a vat of water. Finally around five AM he gave up trying to sleep, showered and got dressed. When he arrived at his office, Cameron, Volakis and Kutner sat around the table.

"Why aren't you cavorting with Sherry on some exotic sandy beach?" he asked Kutner as he tossed his backpack behind his desk.

"We pushed back our honeymoon and we were going to Nova Scotia not a beach," Kutner told him.

House stood in the doorway between the two rooms and leaned on his cane. "What the hell is in Nova Scotia?" he asked.

"Whales and puffins," Kutner told him. "And Sherry's family." he looked up at House. "You didn't know she's from Halifax? We were going to visit her grandmother while we were there."

"Go," House told him. "Frolic with the whales and puffins and Sherry's grandmother. Somebody will update you about your new BFF."

"If you're sure…" Kutner began.

"Go," House said again.

Kutner got up and raced for the elevator. House shook his head and made his way over to the board.

"We examined Finn and he had no symptoms before he went into the water. He is good at card tricks," Cameron commented. She looked up at House and smiled. House looked over his shoulder at her with narrowed eyes.

"Did you do an MRI?" he asked.

Volakis shrugged. "There didn't seem to be any need to. He got in the water, panicked and had a heart attack."

"Where's Reilly?" he asked.

"With Finn," Cameron said. "She wanted to test his lungs."

"Get an MRI," House ordered. "Then, if there is really nothing wrong with him, make him disappear. See what I did there? Magician humor."

Finn lay on the MRI table with his head turned away from Reilly.

"Just cough it up," she said. "I can't do the MRI."

"I don't have a key," Finn muttered.

Reilly sighed and looked over her shoulder at Volakis and Cameron in the imaging room. "This machine is a giant magnet. It will cause internal bleeding and organ damage which we can repair or, if you're lucky, just rip that key right out of you."

"Fine," he muttered and put one finger down his throat. He gagged and a key fell onto the table. Finn looked over at Reilly. "How'd you know I swallowed the key to the cuffs?"

"It's a classic Houdini trick," she smiled as she pressed a button. Finn rolled smoothly into the MRI machine. Reilly walked into the imaging room and sat down. She flicked on the microphone. "Lie still," she told Finn. Volakis began the scan. Halfway through, Cameron leaned forward and looked at Finn on the screen.

"Stop the scan," she ordered. "He's got a massive nosebleed."

"Hey, Red!" Finn called out. "My nose is bleeding!"

"A nosebleed that major means he's actually sick. Means the cardiac arrest was a symptom," House said as he wrote NOSE BLEED on the board.

"Could be cocaine," Volakis said.

"Could be polyarteritis nodosa," Cameron said. "We should biopsy a vessel around his heart since he presented with cardiac arrest."

Reilly leaned back in her chair and chewed on her bottom lip. "He bled out of his mouth at the wedding. Now he has a massive nosebleed." She tapped her nose and then her mouth. "Bleeding out of two orifices means a bleed around the heart."

"If you let our minions break into patients' houses, we'd probably find rabbits which means he has tularemia," House told her.

Reilly continued to stare out into space. "No more breaking and entering. Allison, do the biopsy. Amber, start him on antibiotics."

Once they were gone, House sat down next to Reilly. He ran his finger down her cheek and along the curve of her jaw. "If you let them break in-"

"One of them could get sick again," she interrupted as she tilted her head to allow him to trace the length of her neck.

He leaned forward and placed a kiss behind her ear. "I could hire a thief," he breathed.

She turned her head and kissed him. "You already did that, remember? Now he's in LA making the big bucks."

He pulled the neckline of her scrubs away from her skin and looked down at her breasts. "Foreman always bitched about doing B&Es." Dropping a kiss on her collarbone, he smoothed her top and sat back. "You hungry?"

She nodded and stood. "You buying?" she asked with a slight smile.

He rolled his eyes. "I guess."

After numerous tests, House stood at the whiteboard with a self-satisfied smile on his face. "I finally have a case of lupus." He looked at Volakis with a smile. "Thank you, CB, for giving him the wrong blood type. That helped me solve the case."

"We test for antibodies not type," she grumbled. "And he'd be dead if I hadn't given him that blood. He had type A."

"Yes, but his body was also producing the antibodies for type B so, presto-change-o, he has type AB and therefore lupus."

Cameron looked at him. "You're awfully excited about the fact Finn has a life-threatening disease."

"It's never lupus," he told her. "Until it is."


	49. Chapter 49

2015

All the renovations to the apartment were finished. House and Reilly took a week off work to get moved in and settled. Reilly hired some of the residents from the hospital to help her move the furniture and hang pictures. House hung his guitars himself. He would not allow anyone else to touch them. They sold all Reilly's furniture and most of his. The walls were painted a soft blue and new hardwood floors gleamed a soft honey gold. A black microfiber couch faced the fireplace. Two cream colored club chairs flanked the couch. Mahogany end tables and coffee table completed the cozy sitting area. On the end tables were two cream and black lamps with stone bases. A fifty inch plasma television hung over the fireplace and a DVD player and a TiVo box sat on the mantle with a grouping of candles. The bookshelves next to the fireplace were painted a soft cream color. Against the wall behind the couch was a mahogany desk with a Mac Airbook, another smaller version of the other lamps and a small laser printer. Next to the desk was another bookshelf painted the same soft cream color as the other. It held a CD player, charging stations, a turntable, pictures, CDs and vinyl albums. A small rectangular table with four chairs sat between the living room and kitchen. The kitchen and bathroom were both bigger and covered in white subway tiles. Stainless steel appliances replaced House's old ones. The shelves and cabinets were painted white. Everything in the kitchen looked new and clean. The bathroom was relocated behind the master bedroom and now had a steam shower along with a tub with jets. Small blue glass tiles ran in a line around the bathroom. A new pale blue vanity had two sinks, two mirrors and two new stainless steel light fixtures. A small room now held the toilet which House liked. A linen closet held all the towels and bathroom essentials. Like the kitchen, it looked new and clean. Their bedroom was painted the same pale blue as the living room. A king size bed sat between the two windows which were covered in pale grey room darkening curtains. A light blue, grey and black abstract comforter covered the bed along with matching pillow shams. Reilly wanted to add more accent pillows but House balked at that idea. Two stainless steel and glass tables flanked the bed. Two stainless steel reading lamps arched over the bedside tables. One table held a stack of books and medical journals. The other held a vase of flowers, a book and a picture of Sarah and Jenny. The armoire was replaced by a huge walk-in closet. The door to the bathroom was next to the closet. Two sleek black dressers sat against opposite walls. A navy blue Eames chair and ottoman sat in one corner. A larger stainless steel lamp curved over it. Beside it, House's banjo sat in its stand.

Reilly convinced House to purchase the empty apartment behind theirs and add a guest bedroom, bathroom, and laundry room. So, now they had a place for guests and Reilly no longer had to take their laundry to the local laundromat though House still dropped off and picked up all the dry cleaning. She also had a place to iron which House first scoffed at but soon grew to like having neatly ironed clothes.

"Greg?" Reilly called out as she entered the apartment. She juggled her briefcase, purse and two large shopping bags as she shut and locked the door. House sat up on the couch and rubbed his eyes. His head fell back and he rolled his eyes when he saw the shopping bags.

"We don't need more stuff," he whined and flopped back down on the couch.

Reilly put her purse and briefcase on the desk and put the bags on the floor. She pulled out two large throw pillows. They were striped. She dropped one on House's head and the other on his feet. He lifted the pillow and looked at it.

"It has orange in it," he said as he stuffed it behind his head.

"It's called burnt sienna and it adds a nice pop of color."

"You are now officially banned from watching HGTV," he told her. "I stirred the chili."

She leaned down and kissed his forehead. "Thank you."

He grabbed her hand and pulled her down on top of him. Smiling, she lowered her head and kissed him. He returned her kiss with passion.

"Let's move this to the bedroom," he breathed as he stroked her face.

"James and Amber will be here soon," she told him as she dropped kisses on his face.

"Call them and cancel."

She kissed him again and then pushed herself up and off him. Looking down at him, she smiled. "You make me happy, Greg House."

His eyes softened. "You make me happy, Reilly McGrath. And horny."

Laughing, she went back to the kitchen.

A week later, nearly the entire staff of PPTH sat in the auditorium. Lisa Cuddy walked in and stepped up behind the raised podium. House looked at Reilly. Her bottom lip was clamped between her teeth as she stared straight ahead. Taking her hand, he squeezed it. She gripped his hand tightly but she relaxed.

Cuddy adjusted the microphone. "Good morning," she said. "Thank you for being here. As I'm sure some of you have heard, I'm leaving Princeton Plainsboro at the end of the month. I've accepted a job at Cedars Sinai in Los Angeles as head of the Diabetes and Endocrinology Unit. I'm also getting married." She paused as people applauded. When it was quiet again, she continued. "The board has selected Doctor Reilly McGrath to take my place." The cheers and applause was nearly ear shattering. Cuddy motioned to Reilly who stood up and made her way forward. The two women shook hands and Cuddy stepped down. Reilly smiled out at everyone and waited for the room to become quiet again. House knew what she was going to say and he was disappointed he wouldn't be able to see Cuddy's face.

"Thank you," Reilly said. "I am honored to be named Dean of Medicine. All of you and this hospital mean so much to me. I will do my very best by all of you." She stopped and swallowed. Her eyes locked with House's and he nodded slightly. "I am pleased to announce that we will receive a donation from Edward Voglar in the amount of one hundred million dollars." She looked out at all the shocked faces. "Yes, you heard me correctly. His father recently died from complications of Alzheimer's disease. Last month, we saved his mother's life. To show his appreciation, he is donating one hundred million dollars to be used as we see fit. The first thing the board has decided to do is purchase the building next door and transfer the clinic there. It will be called The Voglar Clinic. We've got some wonderful changes coming our way." She looked down at Cuddy. "I want to thank Doctor Cuddy for all her hard work." She began to clap and soon everyone joined her. When everyone settled again, Reilly thanked them again and they all began to crowd around her and Cuddy. House hung back until they were all gone. Reilly looked at him and held out her hand. He made his way over to her and grasped it tightly.

"I always wanted to sleep with the boss," he smiled. They slowly walked out. "I am proud of you. You're going to do great things here."

"We both are," she told him.


	50. Chapter 50

**A/N: Thank you to all who read this, favorited it, followed it and left lovely reviews. I appreciate you all so much.**

2016

Reilly and the board spent the money from Edward Vogler very carefully. They converted the old clinic and Cuddy's former office into an eye clinic. Each department recieved new equipment and extra personnel. The operating rooms were renovated and updated. The Vogler Clinic did very well in its new home next to the hospital. They installed two new MRI suites and three new CAT scans. The lab was expanded. The emergency room was renovated to accommodate more patients.

Reilly moved into an office on the top floor. She hired a very efficient assistant named Katie Allen. Katie and House became fast friends and he soon invited her to join his Thursday night poker game.

Katie walked into Reilly's office carrying a stack of folders. Reilly looked up at the tall dark haired woman. Amber asked her how she could allow someone as beautiful as Katie to join House's poker games. Reilly laughed and reminded her friend that she trusted Greg.

"Your meeting with the budget committee has been moved to tomorrow at one," Katie said as she handed Reilly the files. "And there's a Major Matthewson here to see you about House's new patient." Her hazel eyes narrowed. "Apparently the patient committed treason. That Major has a huge stick up his ass. The patient leaked a video of some of our guys killing civilians and children in Afghanistan. They claim they were insurgents. I saw the video. They weren't."

Reilly sighed. "What's wrong with the patient?"

"Seizure at the airport as they were bringing him in." Anger radiated off Katie.

"Okay. Send him in."

Katie walked to the office door, opened it and jerked her thumb over her shoulder. The Major looked at her as he walked in. Katie stared back at him and closed the door on his heels.

Reilly rose from her desk and pointed to the cream colored couch against the far wall. "Please sit down, Major."

He stood at parade rest and faced her desk. "Doctor House is going to treat Private First Class Brant Macklin. He's been charged with treason. To avoid any attempts at escape I will be placing Military Police officers at each exit and outside his room. Two will accompany him at all times. He will not be allowed any outside visitors. Your staff are required to show their badges at all times and be patted down before entering any room Macklin is in."

Reilly stood straighter and folded her arms. "This is not a military hospital. Why bring him here?" she asked.

The Major twisted his neck slightly. He looked down at the floor. "They couldn't discern what caused the seizures."

"And you need Doctor House's expertise."

"We need Macklin fit to stand trial for treason."

Reilly shook her head. "Fine. But your guards are not to enter any area other than the ones assigned to them. I will not have them disrupting this hospital."

Matthewson looked at her and his eyebrows lowered. "And if they need to eat or use the head?"

"I'm sure you'll figure something out," she told him as she moved to sit behind her desk. "Have a nice day."

He turned sharply on his heel and left. Katie came in a moment later grinning.

"He looked pissed," she smirked.

"He expected to take over this hospital."

"And you set him straight."

Reilly smiled.

After yoga class that night, Reilly returned to the hospital. House and his team were still working on their patient. She passed to MPs at the entrance and held up her badge. One opened the door for her. Nodding, she walked in and saw two guards at each elevator and two more at each hallway and the stairs. She flashed her badge at the two standing at attention beside the stairs. Red hot anger coursed through her as she ran up the stairs to the fourth floor. The added exercise didn't help with her anger. She ran into the Diagnostics conference room and looked at the board before turning to House.

"Matthewson is refusing to allow a press conference for your patient, Brant," she announced. "He'd rather let him die."

"He interrupted you at yoga," House commented. He looked over at Kutner. "Told you so."

Kutner slumped and pulled out his wallet. He handed House a twenty dollar bill. House palmed it and looked at Reilly again. "Brother of the traitor is refusing to say his brother is crazy so we can get a court order to treat said traitor. Lots of honor in this family."

"What does the alleged traitor want more than the press conference?" she asked.

Cameron cocked her head. "To know what happened to his father. It's why he joined up."

Reilly pulled her phone out of her gym bag. House smiled and the others watched in shock as she very coldly informed Major Matthewson that if he did not disclose what happened to the patient's father she would hold her own press conference. When she finished she tossed her phone back in her bag.

"They'll have the unredacted files here tomorrow," she said.

"Today tomorrow or tomorrow tomorrow?" Kutner asked.

"Tomorrow tomorrow," Reilly told him.

The file came and revealed Brant's father died in a car accident which he already knew. It also revealed he was drunk and killed a pedestrian. House then diagnosed Brant with typhus.

Two weeks later, he and Reilly stood on the balcony over the lobby watching as Brant was escorted out by armed MPs.

"You know," House commented. "My faux-father would have condemned him for doing something Macklin thought was honorable. Also, you are damn sexy when you're angry."

"My father saw the tape and thought he did the right thing. Dad said people deserve to know the truth but that Brant could have done it differently and still made a difference."

"Going to yoga with the ladies this week?" he asked.

"Yep. You need food for your poker game or is Katie bringing something?"

"Katie is bringing something. Wilson thinks I shouldn't let the hot assistant who cooks and bakes in on the game," he told her.

She nodded. "Amber said the same thing. I trust you and I trust Katie."

"Allen is hot."

"She is," Reilly agreed. "She's got legs for days and those breasts of hers are spectacular."

House closed his eyes as his eyebrows rose toward his hairline. "You are perfect and it makes me crazy," he moaned.

Turning his face, she kissed him. "So are you. Let's go home and do nasty things to each other."

House slammed the front door and pushed Reilly up against it. He kissed her and she responded with an intensity that sent heat coursing through him. She fumbled with the zipper on his pants before sliding it down. She reached in and pulled out his stiff cock. His hands clawed at her skirt as he pulled it up. Ripping her panties off, he lifted her right leg, shifted his weight to his left and thrust up into her. His mouth latched onto her neck and he began to suck the soft skin as she clawed at his back. Within moments her inner muscles clamped down on him and she arched against him as a guttural moan escaped her. A few more hard thrusts and his own orgasm shuddered through him. She leaned against him panting.

"Bedroom," he gasped.

Pulling back, she looked at him. "Your leg?"

He nodded.

Wrapping her arm around his waist, she helped him to their bedroom. He let her remove his suit jacket, shoes, socks and jeans before lying back on the bed. His eyes closed as she began to massage the tight muscles around his scar. As her fingers worked out the knots, he began to relax.

"How about a bath?" she asked as she ran her hands down his right leg.

"Sounds good."

Propping himself up on the pillows, he watched her as she undressed and went into the bathroom. He heard the water splash as it began to fill the tub. Sitting up, he swung his legs over the edge of the bed. Reilly returned and he leaned against her as she led him to the bathroom. Steam rose from the water and he saw the jets were turned on. He removed his boxer shorts and t-shirt. Reilly helped him into the tub and he pulled her in with him. Leaning back against him, she sighed.

"Tired?" he asked.

"Happy."

He kissed her temple. "So am I."

Greg and Reilly both retired in 2024. Greg chose Reilly's daughter, Sarah, to take over the department. Jennifer worked at a non-profit organization. Sarah chose not to marry but Jennifer did. Jennifer and her husband adopted three children which delighted both Greg and Reilly. Blythe died in 2018 with Greg, Reilly, Meara and Gil at her side. Gil died in 2022 and Meara died in 2023. Doug, Reilly's ex-husband, died of cancer in 2019.

Wilson and Volakis lived happily together until Wilson's death in 2045. Volakis died fifteen years later.

Kutner and Sherry had seven children. They moved to India in 2024 when Greg retired. Kutner died in 2065 and Sherry died six months later.

Cameron and Nate had two boys. Once Reilly retired, Cameron took over as Dean of Medicine. She died in 2063 two years after Nate passed.

Cuddy married Lucas Douglas and had a son with him. He adopted Rachel. Cuddy was killed in a car accident in 2021.

Greg and Reilly moved to Ireland in 2029. They never married but lived happily together for the remainder of their lives. Greg died peacefully in his sleep in 2044. Reilly died the same way ten years later.

 **The End**.


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